


Owl Post

by zavocado



Category: Glee, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, Gen, Hogwarts!Glee, M/M, hogwarts!Klaine
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-20
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-02-26 09:08:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 43,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2646281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zavocado/pseuds/zavocado
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Its hard to stay chipper when everyone starts dating. Blaine Anderson has tried to find a nice boy to date now that his friends have paired off, but luck isn't on his side. The only boy he wants doesn't know he exists. Kurt Hummel knows who he wants, but its impossible. Blaine will never notice him. It could never work as long as he's a Slytherin. Hogwarts!Klaine AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N:** I have returned???? From the great beyond and abyss of my final college semester. 16 days and counting until I graduate. And soon there will be book announcements too since my manuscript is finished and in copy editing. Exciting stuff!
> 
> Anyway, this is clearly a crossover Klaine story, a Klaine at Hogwarts story. I started posting this on tumblr probably a year ago, stopped writing because I was busy with a dozen other things, and I figured I'd pick it back up and start posting outside of tumblr as well. I'm not sure how frequent updates will be, or how long this one will be, but it'll be multiple chapters.
> 
> Oh, and I started a sequel for an older story of mine, but that'll be a summer fic, if I can get it finished by then. Enjoy!

**Owl Post**

**Chapter 1**

Blaine circled the pitch, watching his teammates zip past far below. The only thing brighter than their canary yellow Quidditch robes was the edge of the rising sun just peaking up over the distant castle. As much as he loved Quidditch, Blaine despised being up this early on a Sunday. Unfortunately, the Slytherin and Gryffindor captains had carried over from last term, which meant their training schedules had been decided five months ago, whereas Hufflepuff's hadn't.

Mike Chang, their new Captain and one of Blaine's best friends, had picked their new time slot, which meant five in the morning practices instead of evenings after dinner. For Mike, evenings were exclusively reserved by his girlfriend, Tina, and his tower of N.E.W.T. level homework. There was also the added benefit of a longer time slot, but Blaine liked to pretend that his early morning wakeup call was the fault of Mike's selfish need for romance.

"Oi, Anderson! Stop dawdling around up there!"Mike hollered up to him. He neatly pulled out of a dive and tossed the Quaffle off to Wes Montgomery, one of the team's Chasers.

"Ah, leave him be," Nick called across the pitch, twirling his Beater's bat. "We all know how much Blaine likes a good bit of wood between his legs in the morning."

As the rest of the team chortled, Blaine grimaced, then turned his broom around and shot straight at Nick, veering off at the last second to avoid a collision. It was, however, close enough to startle Nick, sending the brunette tumbling sideways off his broom and into the mud.

More laughter followed Blaine's stunt as Nick spluttered through a mouthful of goop.

"I prefer two bits of wood, actually," Blaine corrected him. "One of my own, and a willing volunteer's."

Mike swooped down to where Blaine was hovering over Nick. "All right, all right! That's enough mucking around," Mike ordered. "The sooner you catch the Snitch, the sooner we all get to eat, yeah?"

There was a murmur of agreement from the rest of the team. Blaine cast his eyes around the pitch as he flew back over their practice. He'd mostly been waiting for the sun to rise enough to help his vision. Now it was high enough that a few rays were filling the stadium with enough light that would hopefully reflect off the little golden ball so that he could spot it. Blaine spent the next five minutes swooping around and darting in and out of his teammates for a few plays. Several times he thought he'd spotted the Snitch, but it was only Wes's wristwatch.

Down below him, Jeff groaned and rubbed his stomach. "Hurry it up, Blaine, or I'm going to eat my bat."

"Really? I didn't know you had a think for wo–"

A flash of gold zipped by Jeff's head as Blaine glanced over. Without a second thought, he tilted his broom and dived, streaking across the pitch after the glimmering speck as Jeff shrieked and tumbled out of the way.

"That doesn't mean I'll eat _your_ wood!" Jeff bellowed, hanging upside down from his broomstick.

Blaine gave chase to the Snitch, following its winding path through the other players until he finally cut it off on a curve. The ball's little wings struggled fiercely as Blaine's fingertips closed around it, and a chorus of whoops started up below.

"Yes! Breakfast time!" Nick roared. He almost crashed as he slammed into the grass and raced off towards the distant castle, broom over his shoulder and Jeff a few steps behind him.

Laughing, Blaine flew over to Mike's side and followed him back to the ground. The rest of the team was already dashing off for the castle and their house table patiently waiting for them to relieve it of breakfast.

Mike sighed as they dismounted and collected the Quaffle where it had been dropped. "I don't know what I'm going to do with those two," he commented, picking the Quaffle up and carrying it into the changing room where they'd left the ball trunk.

"They're the best Beaters in the school," Blaine reminded him. "They're no match for Sam, but until his grades pick up again... "

"Yeah, well, they're a little too focused on their stomachs," Mike told him, grimacing at the reminder of Blaine's year-mate and other best friend, Sam Evans. He hadn't done very well on his O.W.L.s the year before; well enough to pass, but not well enough to stay on the team for the first half of the year. Professor Beiste had said she would have his grades re-evaluated over Christmas break in the hopes that he could start in their match against Gryffindor in early March.

Blaine shrugged as they set their brooms against the changing lockers, and heaved the huge trunk onto a bench. They popped it open and put the Snitch and Quaffle back into their holders before moving off to their own lockers.

Mike tugged his robes over his head and shoved them into his locker, quickly pulling his school robes on and hoisting his broom over his shoulder. "Catch you later, yeah? I've gotta go meet Tina to, uh–to study."

"Uh huh," Blaine laughed. He rolled his eyes at Mike's attempt to cover up a planned make out session. "Sure, go study her lips. I want an entire roll of parchment on it by Wednesday!" he hollered after Mike's retreating figure.

A little wave was offered in reply before Mike exited the changing room. With a heavy sigh, Blaine tugged his own canary yellow robes off and tossed them into his locker. Here he was alone, like always. While Blaine was certainly happy for Mike and Tina, he still wished he had someone to hold close. Even Sam had a girlfriend right now. There were plenty of other gay boys at Hogwarts, and he'd almost had a boyfriend last year until Todd had graduated, but the others were already paired off or would never give him the time of day because of house rivalries. Particularly the one boy he'd had his eyes on.

There was absolutely no way a Slytherin would spare him a second glance; especially not one he'd never spoken to in six years of sharing classes. Kurt Hummel, for all his astounding beauty, exquisite tastes, and biting wit, was out of bounds and certainly not interested in him.

* * *

Kurt glanced up as the last member of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team entered the Great Hall for breakfast. The others had arrived nearly twenty minutes ago, then their Captain had taken his spot at his girlfriend's table, and finally their Seeker had arrived. Before Santana, Rachel, Sebastian, or any of his other housemates noticed the direction of his gaze, Kurt turned back to his porridge and tuned into the debate going on.

"Look, there's nothing I can do to change it. He's still got that sprained wrist and they put the request in on time," Sebastian spat, slamming his fist down on the table top and upsetting a jug of juice.

Kurt waved his wand and cleaned it up quickly. He'd be better off staring at the handsome Hufflepuff who'd caught his interest over the summer instead of listening to another asinine Quidditch discussion.

"But we _always_ play Gryffindor for the first match," Rachel shrieked. "I spent all summer practicing to play _them_ , and now we're playing Ravenclaw!"

"Oh, shut up, Hobbit," Santana snapped, grabbing another croissant and tearing it open. "All you have to do is catch the Snitch." Santana tilted her nose up and shot Rachel a contemptuous look. "Not that you stand a chance against Britt, but your game play won't change."

"Of course it will," Rachel argued. "Her broom is a different model than Flanagan's. She's got a completely unpredictable style–"

"That's my baby," Santana cut in with an approving nod.

Sebastian snorted and tipped the platter of bacon onto his plate. "Right, because it isn't just her randomly thinking she's spotted a golden butterfly and needs to catch it."

Santana swiped the knife she'd been using to spread jam on her croissant through the air in front of Sebastian's face. "Back off my girl, Twink. She's a _Ravenclaw_ , remember?"

"Hard to forget since we're playing her next month," Rachel said hysterically.

"Piss off, Berry," Sebastian growled. "We'll be fine. It's only Ravenclaw. Or are you _not_ one of the best?"

"I _am_ the best," Rachel corrected, sounding annoyed.

"At being a brat," Kurt said, letting his eyes have another fast look over to the Hufflepuff table.

"Oh, whatever. You don't know a damn thing about Quidditch," Rachel snapped. She huffed loudly and raised her nose towards the cloudy ceiling.

Kurt quirked an eyebrow at her. "Neither do you if your record last season is any indication. I believe Anderson and Brittany beat you by a dozen meters."

Rachel's face turned bright red, her lower lip jutting out in fury. She hopped to her feet and glared at them. "Fine, just _fine_. Now I won't be prepared and everything is going to fall apart and we're going to _lose_."

The three of them watched Rachel storm out of the hall. Sebastian rolled his eyes in annoyance and Santana grimaced.

"I don't know why you keep her on the team," Kurt commented, not for the first time. "She's too high-maintenance, and that's coming from _me_."

"I'd rather have you coming _for_ me," Sebastian retorted slyly, smirking as Kurt made a retching noise.

Kurt scowled. "Not even in your wildest fantasies."

Sebastian chuckled softly. "Oh, you're there. So is every other sexy guy in this castle."

"Never going to happen," Kurt replied loftily. He drank the rest of his juice and stood up. "I've got Potions homework to finish. You going to join me, Santana?"

"Nope," Santana answered, shaking her head and staring over at the Ravenclaw table. "I've got a date with my lady."

"Is it the one due tomorrow morning?"Sebastian asked, looking interested. "I've still got to finish that one. We could... _study_ together," he added suggestively, winking.

"Oh, go stuff Karofsky's ass," Kurt said before turning around and heading towards the entrance hall.

Kurt was barely paying attention as he stalked along the ends of the house tables. At the doorway, however, he shouldered straight into someone and nearly lost his balance.

"Oh, Merlin, I'm s–"

Kurt regained his footing enough to glance up and snap at the idiot who had run into him, but when he saw who it was he nearly toppled over again. The Hufflepuff Seeker, Blaine Anderson, was staring at him in apparent terror, mouth still open from the words he hadn't finished.

They stared at each other for a moment. Kurt's heart thumped like an avalanche in his chest. He couldn't think of anything to say. His mouth was dry and his tongue felt numb. Blaine was even more handsome up close. How had he missed that for five straight years? Why was it only this summer that he'd seen this boy?

Blaine's eyes, a bright hazel that made Kurt's stomach knot up, were as big as Galleons as he took a tentative step backwards. "I-I –sorry. Bye."

Before Kurt could even attempt to force his tongue into action, Blaine darted out into the entrance hall and down a corridor next to the marble staircase that Kurt had never ventured along before. It wasn't the dungeons, his own common room was hidden down there. Perhaps it led to a secret staircase of some sort. Hogwarts was always full of surprises. It wasn't a spot he'd ever paid particular attention to, but a group of Hufflepuffs hurried in the same direction. Their common room was probably tucked away down there.

Distracted, Kurt took his time heading down to the Slytherin common room to collect his bag and books. Blaine had been right in front of him. They'd actually _touched_ , even if it had only been by accident. Stomach flipping, Kurt mumbled the password at the bare stone wall, watched the panel slide aside, and hurried in.

After giving Rachel, who seemed to have been waiting for one of them, a very snarky answer to why none of them had followed her out, Kurt grabbed his bag from his dormitory and headed back out into the dungeon corridor. The library would be quieter and less bothersome than the common room. It wasn't unusual for him to spend his weekends alone outside of meals. He only had a small group he hung out with and considered friends. Nowadays, all of them were quite busy between Quidditch and their budding romantic lives.

Santana and Brittany had gotten together at the beginning of last year, and while Kurt typically enjoyed the Ravenclaw's company he hated feeling like a third wheel.

Rachel and a seventh year Slytherin, Jesse St. James, had started dating not long after that, which had left Kurt with only Sebastian and a snotty boy that shared their dormitory. Sebastian had started flirting with one of Jesse's year mates, David Karofsky, a few weeks later. The two weren't an item as far as Kurt knew, but they spent quite a bit of time together, either arguing or roughly snogging each other.

Kurt had attempted to date a few boys to fill his friends' new absence, but none of them had panned out. He didn't exactly have a lot of acceptable options if he wanted to stay on good terms with his house.

Gryffindors were automatically out since they were Slytherin's biggest rival. None of the older Gryffindor boys were even gay as far as Kurt knew. There was a fourth year who Kurt suspected, but the kid's voice was still squeaking and cracking. He wasn't going to rob the cradle just to have a boyfriend.

Ravenclaws were his only option outside of his own house. Most days he couldn't stand the lot of them. The one sixth year he'd attempted to date had been a nightmare, constantly prattling on about whether or not he'd forgotten this homework assignment or to study for that test. Brittany was a rare exception as far as Ravenclaws went. He wasn't even sure _how_ she'd ended up in the house known for wisdom and intelligence, but he supposed there had to be a part of her character that he'd overlooked.

All of the queer boys in Slytherin–himself, Sebastian, and David Karofsky–were already accounted for. Even if the other two had been single, Kurt wouldn't have been interested. He knew both of them way too well, and had been on the receiving end of Karofsky's closeted anger several years ago. They'd both made amends over the drama of their third year, but Kurt couldn't ever imagine dating the boy.

The fourth house, Hufflepuff, was considered off limits just like Gryffindor, albeit for different reasons. The majority of Slytherin thought they were just a bunch of duffers and idiots–the scraps left over from the other three houses. Kurt didn't particularly agree with their mentality, but he hadn't ever had a reason to go against it. At least, not until he'd caught sight of Blaine Anderson in Diagon Alley over the summer.

For the past five years, Kurt hadn't made a habit of knowing all of his classmates names. Outside of Slytherin, he only knew a handful of his step-brother's Gryffindor housemates, but he'd known Blaine's. The one Hufflepuff who volunteered information in class. The one that beat all of the Slytherins in his year, including Kurt, in exams and was the star Seeker of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team, and the bane of Rachel Berry's existence for that very reason.

Before this summer, Blaine had been a tiny, skinny boy with a floppy mop of dark curls on his head. When Kurt had seen him in Diagon Alley, however, Blaine had been... different. Gorgeous, really. So much so that Kurt had dribbled ice cream all over his favorite set of robes.

Blaine had suddenly grown up. His curls had been trimmed, no longer framing his face and getting stuck on his lips, but cut up above his ears and styled off his forehead. He'd grown a good six inches, his upper body had started to fill out, and his face was suddenly way too similar to the chiseled features of the models in Kurt's favorite _Wizard of the Robes_ magazines. Particularly one, Cooper Anderson, who Kurt had realized must be Blaine's older, just as handsome, brother.

Finding the other boy browsing through the Arithmancy section at Flourish and Blotts had been quite unexpected, and even worse, he'd made Kurt's stomach swoop. With his dashing smile and his husky little laugh at whatever his accompanying friends had said, Blaine had, even from twenty feet away, made Kurt's knee knock together and his lungs not want to function. He was the most breathtaking boy Kurt had ever seen. Unfortunately, if Kurt wanted to keep his friends, then Blaine was completely off limits.

With a miserable sigh, Kurt swept into the library, robes flapping around his ankles. He stalked through the towering rows of books to his favorite, secluded corner and dropped down at the little desk. Even if Blaine hadn't been off limits he wouldn't know what to say to the other boy. He'd never actually had the chance to speak with a crush before since the other three had been famous models from his magazines.

Kurt pulled out his Arithmancy books, a scroll of parchment, ink, and his quill. It was his first assignment for the class, and not due for another week, but when the term started on a Thursday, there wasn't much to do over the first weekend.

He was better off forgetting about Blaine and finding a cute straight boy to silently swoon over. At least then he'd know there was no point in trying to get up the courage to talk to him. If his crush was straight, then there was nothing to worry about. Just an easy safety net to while away in until he graduated, went to the Healers' Academy, and met the undisputed love of his life.

At least that's what he kept telling himself.

But Blaine wasn't straight, which only made everything worse. Blaine had dated one guy last year–a gangly seventh year Ravenclaw named Todd–but it had never amounted to anything. They'd apparently called it off before graduation, because when Kurt had spotted (okay, maybe he _had_ followed them) Blaine and his friends at another shop in Diagon Alley that same afternoon, Blaine had been arm in arm with a different boy. That boy, another Ravenclaw, hadn't so much as spoken to Blaine since the first day of school.

Blaine seemed to be doing something similar to what Kurt was. All of _his_ friends had suddenly started dating, too, and Blaine was jumping from date to date, trying to find his own romance. Kurt wanted more than anything to let Blaine find that with him, but he didn't know how to go about that. Not with all of the other Slytherins watching.

Behind him something sharp tapped against the window. Kurt half-heartedly glanced behind him only to see his faithful owl, McQueen, perched on the window ledge. Surprised, but slightly happy to see a scroll tied to his leg, Kurt tugged the window open carefully, trying to be as quiet as possible in case Madame Pince was about.

McQueen hopped inside and settled on his shoulder, sticking his left leg out dutifully so that Kurt could take his letter. Receiving letters through owl post was one of Kurt's favorite things about being away at school. His father and stepmother wrote him several times a week, whereas in the summer Kurt tended not to write letters at all. He and Santana only lived five miles away from each other, so they met up in person. He usually didn't have anything nice to say to Rachel, so he tended to forget her during the holidays. The same went for Sebastian. He had to share a dormitory with the prick nine months out of the year. He didn't want to deal with him during his breaks, too.

Kurt unrolled the scroll and read through his father's short reply, telling him how his Quidditch shop in Diagon Alley was doing, and about Carole's new promotion at St. Mungo's. She had been a huge inspiration for his own decided career path. Next to him, McQueen stretched his wings and hooted softly, nudging Kurt's hand with his beak.

"Sorry, boy," Kurt murmured. "I don't have any food on me. I'll give you bacon at breakfast," he offered instead. "I'll have to write back sometime tonight, but I'll give you the night off. I know you're not used to making lots of journeys... "

Kurt trailed off, stunned as a sudden idea struck him. Letters. The perfect way to be anonymous, but still talk to Blaine. He only had to use a school owl, or figure out which one was Blaine's, and have it deliver it to him. There would be no blushing or humiliating stutters, and the best part was that he'd be incredibly difficult to track for the other Slytherins. It might even be weeks before they caught wind of a Hufflepuff having a secret admirer.

Not being able to tell Blaine who he was would be hard, not giving Blaine any idea of who he was would be close to impossible, but if he let anything that identified him slip and Blaine didn't think his letters were endearing...

Then the entire school would know. He'd be completely doomed to two years of torment before he graduated.

"Hey, McQueen, you wouldn't happen to know which owls belong to who, would you?" Kurt asked. He didn'texpect an answer, but the barn owl jerked his head in what was an unmistakable nod. "I'll give you an entire platter of bacon in the morning if you can find Blaine Anderson's owl."

McQueen's eyes grew huge at the offer. He hooted , nudged Kurt's hand again, and then swooped out of the open window.

Not entirely sure what McQueen was about to do, or if he'd even understand, Kurt stuck his head out the window. "I didn't finish telling you what to do yet!" he hollered after the owl, watching him soar up past the North Tower and out of sight.

"Mr. Hummel, be _silent!_ This is a library!" Madame Pince snapped from just out of sight.

A second later she was upon him, squawking and flapping her arms at him like they were propellers. "Out, _out!_ You're disrupting the other students!"

Kurt grabbed his bag and books as he stumbled back towards the entrance. But even her aggravation couldn't burst his fantastic mood. "I think you've disrupted them more in two minutes than I have in five years," he called over his shoulder, breaking into a sprint as he reached the corridor.

Even two corridors away he could still hear her angry snarling. Maybe he hadn't gotten much work done, and maybe he wouldn't be allowed back into the library until his grandchildren were roaming these halls, but he had a plan. A plan that would allow him to talk to Blaine Anderson without anybody knowing he was.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: So I fucked up with posting. My brain's just lost itself completely these days. I blame working retail. So, I actually posted what is going to be Chapter 3, meaning this is something entirely new, and also that I will have something to post next Friday!
> 
> Apologies for the confusion of 4am posting, and I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to correct it before work today!
> 
> Enjoy the REAL Chapter 2.

Monday mornings were always rough for Blaine. After a weekend of little sleep because of early Quidditch practices and long afternoons and evenings filled with course work he was typically more exhausted then than he was by the time Friday crept up on him. Eyes heavy and lids drooping, Blaine flopped down at his usual spot along the Hufflepuff table and tugged a platter of bacon towards himself. Despite a short first week, his course load have been substantial. Sixth year was certainly no joke like his older brother, Cooper, had made it out to be. That was probably why he'd skipped out on N.E.W.T.s and run off to London to become a model. So far it had worked out well for him.

After several forkfuls of eggs, three slices of bacon, and half a cup of tea, Blaine paused to scan the Ravenclaw table across the room. Sure enough the yellow of Mike and Sam's ties and robe trimming stuck out like jaundice-plagued thumbs amongst the Ravenclaws' deep blue. The only thing that stood out as much was the blond of Sam and Quinn's hair. They were cuddled up together on the bench while Mike and Tina did the same several yards down.

Sagging down onto the bench pitifully, Blaine stared at his half-empty plate. Someday he'd have that, maybe not during his time at Hogwarts, but someday. Someday he'd have another boy's hand to hold and someone to snuggle up with when the stress of studying, or a job, became too much.

"Gosh, B, if you looked anymore like a kicked puppy I'd have to stun you," Nick commented as he hopped onto the bench beside him. "What's–" his eyes followed Blaine's longing gaze. "Oh, right. You're pining for romance again. Honestly, a quick and fun snog is so much better."

"Better for _you_ ," Blaine muttered as he stared back down at his plate. His stomach grumbled angrily, requesting second-helpings. "I _want_ romance," he reminded the other boy as he started piling his plate up again. "I don't just want to get off with someone every once in a while."

"I didn't say anything about getting off," Nick frowned, filling his own plate as Jeff dropped down beside him. "I said _snog_. There is a difference."

"Not when it's you and Beverly hogging _my_ chair by the fire," Blaine griped.

Jeff sniggered as Nick thrust his fork in Blaine's face. "That was _one time_ –"

"It was all the time." Sugar Motta, a fourth year Hufflepuff, had joined their spot at the long table. Blaine had tutored her in Transfiguration a few years back and they'd become good friends since. "Good morning, cutie," she added, sliding onto the bench at Blaine's side and peaking him on the cheek. "Are they pulling your wand again?"

The two boys across from them grimaced and pulled faces. " _Ugh_ ," Jeff groaned and shoved the platter of bacon away. "That was _not_ something I wanted to picture over breakfast. Or ever, actually."

"Never ever," Nick agreed,. He glared at Sugar and then glowering at his plate of eggs. He shoved his away, too. "Nope, I can't eat now. Thanks a lot, Motta."

"You'll live, I'm sure, and then you'll realize that I'm better than both of you with a bat and that you're a pair of–"

"Asperger's!" Blaine interjected before she could finish.

"Self-diagnosed Asperger's," Nick corrected, glaring at Sugar, who raised her shoulders and tilted her head until she looked positively adorable. More than once Sugar had used her "illness" to get away with saying things that others couldn't. It worked with everyone except Professor Sylvester, but Professor Sylvester also tried to string students up by their toenails when she got the chance.

"I'm still the cutest thing at this table," she decided. Nick and Jeff clambered to their feet and disappeared out into the entrance hall. "So what's with the look?" she asked, filling her glass with pumpkin juice.

Blaine glanced towards Mike and Tina, then Sam and Quinn, and finally, and very briefly, in the direction of the Slytherin table where Kurt Hummel was seated with his friends. "Nothing," he sighed, dropping his gaze as his heart rolled down a flight of stairs. "Just–it doesn't matter."

"He's cute," Sugar said suddenly. "You should definitely go for it."

"He–how did you know who–" Sugar smiled and patted his cheek.

"I don't have to see him to know he's gorgeous," she said simply. "You have wonderful tastes, Blaine Anderson. I've seen the inside of your wardrobe _and_ that room you call a closet at home. Get your guy before someone else does."

Sugar climbed to her feet and bopped off down the table to sit with her year-mates. Blaine stared after her, turning the suggestion over in his head and wondering just how desperate he'd have to be to attempt it, and then at what moment during the next two years he'd reach such a point.

Blaine turned back to his eggs and tried his best to ignore the empty seats around himA wet sucking sound burbled behind him. He glanced over his shoulder at a couple of Gryffindors suctioned together at the mouth. Professor Sylvester would be along soon enough to threaten them bodily harm for making out in the Great Hall. If there was one thing she wouldn't tolerate, it was Gryffindors existing in any vacuum of happiness, lust, or bliss.

Sure enough–

"Break it up, duck face! I don't want your offspring quacking in my classroom eleven years from now!"

Blaine chuckled to himself as the couple broke apart. He might love the idea of romance, but sloppy reminders over breakfast weren't his taste. Professor Sylvester stalked down the table and broke up a handful of another couples before swooping out of the hall in a shower of parchment. Blaine watched the Hufflepuffs at the far end of the table scramble to help the poor third year collect all of his notes and essays before they were trampled.

Just as he was finishing up, the morning post fluttered in overhead. Owls swooped and dived around each other in search of their owners. A number of them carried large, heavy-looking parcels–forgotten items from home–and others had _The Daily Prophet_ knotted to their legs. Blaine watched one enormous parcel make its way towards Sugar, who squealed in excitement. Her father was incredibly wealthy and made a habit of sending expensive, luxurious gifts for her at least once a week.

A flash of white feathers caught Blaine's eyes and a second later his snowy owl, Queen, settled down on his shoulder.

" 'Lo, girl," he greeted, passing her a piece of bacon. He didn't expect any mail or letters this early in the year. His brother wrote once a month if Blaine was lucky, and his parents were busy with their jobs at the Ministry. But Queen's hoot of thanks was accompanied by a letter fluttering down onto the table by his elbow. Surprised, Blaine scooped it up as she nipped his finger in thanks.

There was no formal script on the front of the envelope like his parents' letters came addressed with. No ridiculous titles announcing, "The Incredibly Handsome and Deviously Charming, Mr. Cooper Jay Anderson" were stamped on the front, either. If it hadn't clearly had his name scribbled across the front(in a handwriting he didn't know), Blaine would have assumed it was for someone else. Blaine glanced up and down the Hufflepuff table and then at the Gryffindors over his shoulder. Nobody was paying him the slightest bit of attention that he could see. The Ravenclaws were already starting to clear out for classes and he didn't even register on the Slytherins' radars. With one final sweep of the hall, Blaine plucked the letter up and offered Queen the rest of his toast. She pecked it in delight as he slit the envelope open and pulled the letter out.

At once an overwhelming scent of warm vanilla and some type of cologne greeted him. Intrigued, Blaine unfolded the parchment and read the very short letter:

_You grow more beautiful every morning when the sunlight reaches the high windows and highlights your soft curls. When it hits the amber of your eyes, my world turns over and I wonder how it is that we live so close, yet never together._

Blaine gapped as the tables around him began to clear out. Someone had to be messing with him. Or maybe it was a foolish, lovesick girl who didn't realize he was gay. But still... Blaine read it over again, heart pattering and throat dry. He had a secret admirer, someone reaching out but too scared to say anything aloud. Just like he was when it came to Kurt Hummel. It was such a pointless crush to have. Kurt would never notice him when he was wearing a Hufflepuff's robes. Whoever this was, wasn't who he hoped it was, but that didn't mean it was a bad thing. Either way, it was only one letter. Nothing would probably come from it.

"Oi, Blaine, hurry it up!" Sam hollered across the hall to him. "We're gonna be late for Charms!"

Blaine scrambled to grab his bag and finish his juice. As he stood up and tucked the letter into his inside robe pocket, the sunlight trickled in from behind the thick clouds dotting the sky. He paused, ignoring Sam's shouts of protest, and looked around. He always sat facing east towards the sun and the Slytherin and Ravenclaw tables. It was rare if he ever had a reason to turn around towards the Gryffindors, so whoever had written this didn't sit behind him. For now he'd have to keep an eye out, and see if he could get Queen to carry a letter back to whoever this person was. It might end in disaster or maybe, just maybe, the one thing he'd been longing for might come out of this.

* * *

Kurt trudged towards his first N.E.W.T. level Charms class with Santana, Rachel, and Sebastian. It was one of the few classes they all still shared together now that their O.W.L.s were done. So far they had Potions and Transfiguration together, but the other courses Kurt had signed up for were mostly by himself.

"But can't we play Hufflepuff instead–"

"Do you _really_ want to play Anderson?" Sebastian said as they dodged around a frightened looking group of first years, who were clearly lost. "You've _never_ beaten him."

"Which is why I've been practicing moves and strategies so that I can. He's as small as _me_ , so I know his tricks now. There's no hidden puberty under his belt anymore since I don't think he's going to have one," Rachel snarled. Kurt frowned at her words. Blaine's growth spurt had done unnoticed by the other Slytherins so far, but it wouldn't after today. They were bound to have at least one class together. "Can't we play them first? Get the worst out of the way? Gryffindor's easy enough these days, and Ravenclaw is–"

"Don't even _think_ about saying a word against my girl," Santana hissed, knocking a second year's books to the floor. "Watch it, shorty!"

"Santana," Kurt scolded, watching the girl, a second year Hufflepuff, stare tearfully down at her books. Her hair was dark and curly just like Blaine's. Kurt hoped she wasn't his younger sister. "Don't be so rude."

"Whatever," Santana snapped. She rolled her eyes as they reached their classroom. "It'll toughen her up. Gotta make sure at least _one_ Hufflepuff in this school can handle herself."

Santana glared pointedly at Kara Tesslon, a Hufflepuff in their year, who was already seated at the front of the room. With a jolt, Kurt spotted Blaine and two of his friends at a table in the second row. He'd seen Blaine's snowy owl flutter down at his table that morning, watched him unfold the letter through a crowd of Ravenclaws charging off to class, but he hadn't been able to bare watching him read it and react. What if Blaine thought it was creepy and weird? His one chance might be ruined if Blaine wasn't as much of a sappy romantic as he was.

"I see you managed to pass your Charms O.W.L. without bribery," Kara snapped, whipping her ponytail over her shoulder and glaring at them as they passed. "Never thought you'd be able to find the brains to get here on your own, Lopez."

"At least she can do it without opening her thighs for every examiner that passed through the Great Hall," Sebastian cut in, giving Kara a hard look. The girl flushed, and Kurt turned away quickly and took a seat in the third row, not right behind Blaine and his friends, but diagonal. Everyone present was familiar with Kara's reputation and the truth those rumors held. Kurt didn't like the insults, but he'd never spoken up to stop them either.

Kurt gave Blaine and his friends another quick glance, but they seemed to have tuned out of the short confrontation. The large group of Ravenclaws in the front row had turned to watch in interest. The Gryffindors, and Kurt knew his step-brother, Finn, would be one of them, hadn't arrived yet.

"So anyway," one of Blaine's friends was saying. He was tall and blond with big lips. Kurt thought his name was Sam, but he wasn't sure. "Mike was telling us at breakfast that Gryffindor postponed their first match, so Slytherin's playing–"

A loud, wolf whistle echoed around the room as Sebastian plopped down in the seat in front of Kurt and directly next to Blaine's desk.

"Anderson?" Sebastian questioned, squinting over the aisle at him. " _Damn_ , is that what you look like without a werewolf climbing out of your scalp?"

Kurt stared stonily at his desk as the room went quiet. This was the first class they'd had with Blaine so far, and despite his hopes, Sebastian had noticed Blaine at once. It was the one thing Kurt had been dreading since he'd gotten on the train last week. Sebastian was notorious for hopping from boy to boy and girl to girl. He was one of the few bisexual students at Hogwarts, but the only one who made no secret about his exploits. Everyone else turned to watch Sebastian check Blaine out, all whispering at the beginnings of another conquest.

"Probably cut it so that he stands a chance at seeing the snitch," Rachel added with a smirk, giving Blaine a once over that even Kurt could tell meant she was interested. Even Santana was eyeing Blaine's body appraisingly. Kurt wished he'd left his robe on instead of draping it over his chair. Every muscle and sharp line of definition was visible through his uniform shirt.

"And yet I still catch it first every time we play you," Blaine's now deep, steady voice replied. He looked baffled at the flurry of admiring glances, but the banter was nothing unusual. "What's your excuse for missing it, Berry? Ego too heavy for your broom to move?"

The two Hufflepuff boys around Blaine roared with laughter as Rachel stalked away and dropped down beside Kurt. Sebastian laughed a few times with them, still staring at Blaine.

"It's her bitterness that weighs her down," Sebastian said. He looked Blaine over again, his eyes dragging as they followed the new contours of Blaine's torso, his arms. "Summer's been good to you, Anderson," he added with a wink. His eyes racked over Blaine's handsome face and torso until Kurt's face was flushed with anger. "Very generous in all the _right_ places."

"Unfortunate then that it wasn't the same for you," Blaine quipped. He gave Sebastian a funny look. "Still as much of an ass as you were last year."

"Well," Sebastian said slowly, giving Blaine a lingering, lustful look, "that'll work in your favor if you're an ass man, wouldn't it?"

Blaine stared at Sebastian as Professor Schuester scurried in with the Gryffindors. Finn, Puck, Mercedes, and three other girls filled the remaining seats around the rest. Finn offered him a dopey smile when Kurt turned his way, and Mercedes gave him a small, discrete wave. His step-brother was an acceptable Gryffindor to acknowledge, but it got trickier with Mercedes. She was a wonderful girl, and Kurt liked her a lot, but they both didn't want to face the wrath of their houses over their tentative friendship.

Kurt glared at the back of Sebastian's head as Professor Schuester welcomed them to N.E.W.T. level Charms and Rachel hissed angrily at his side. It would be just his luck that Sebastian would aim for Blaine. Honestly, he should have been better prepared for it when he considered just how handsome Blaine had grown. Everyone had been noticing him since classes started last week, even the girls who knew Blaine was gay whispered and blushed when he walked past.

Kurt glowered at his desk as Professor Schuester began his first lesson of review to get them back up to speed for the term. He didn't stand a chance with his stupid letter idea, not with Sebastian flirting and glancing up a storm right in front of him. But Blaine didn't seem interested from what Kurt could tell. If anything he seemed amused and a little concerned by the attention, but not hopeful. It still didn't mean anything good for Kurt. Eventually, Blaine's views towards Sebastian would change and Kurt, since he didn't want a quick fling with him, would still be the silent admirer.

Feeling miserable, Kurt ducked down and dug a quill out of his bag. It was pointless to send anymore letters if Sebastian was honing in. Blaine wouldn't care about a secret admirer when he had a real, handsome boy flirting with him . Soon enough, Sebastian wouldn't be the only one vying for his attention.

"Sam, _no,_ that's not blank–"

Kurt looked up just in time to see Blaine swipe a folded piece of parchment from his friend's grip. It was his letter from this morning. His stomach jolted at the sight of it, at the familiar scrawl of his own writing. He watched Blaine bat Sam's hands away and carefully tuck the letter into his book. Once Sam was focused on the lesson again, Kurt just caught a glimpse of Blaine pulling the parchment free and opening it. The sweetest, brightest smile captured Blaine's face then, and Kurt's chest twisted like a spring. _He'd_ put that adorable, bashful grin on Blaine's face.

"Kurt, perhaps you can tell us the correct incantation and explanation for a Summoning Charm?"

At Professor Schuester's voice, Kurt startled and blushed. He fumbled with his quill, almost dropped it, and looked up to find Blaine's eyes locked on his. For a moment, he held Blaine's gaze, trying to smile and not look guilty of staring, but just as quickly he looked away. He didn't stand a chance with Blaine at all.

" _Accio_ is the correct incantation," Kurt recited, blushing harder at his high voice. Blaine definitely wouldn't be interested if he knew that letter was from him, not with a voice like a banshee. "A Summoning Charm is used to make an object of the witch or wizard's choice come to them."

"I'd like to make a certain Hufflepuff Seeker come to me," Sebastian said under his breath, but it was loud enough for Blaine and Kurt to hear.

Kurt gritted his teeth and picked his quill back up, his grip so tight his fist was shaking. Blaine's face had turned a bright, embarrassed red as Sam and the other Hufflepuff boy glared over at Sebastian. What he wouldn't give to strangle Sebastian with his stupid tie right now. Just wind it around the other boy's neck a dozen times and then a few times around his dick to make sure he'd never stand a chance with any beautiful boy Kurt liked ever again.

"Piss off, Smythe," Sam hissed under his breath. He leaned back behind Blaine, who was red in the face, but staring resolutely at his notes. "Blaine's tastes are way too good for Slytherin scum like you."

"Boys, enough chatter! Five points from Hufflepuff and Slytherin!"

Sam and Sebastian turned back to the front as Blaine scribbled down what Professor Schuester had already put on the board up front. Was it Kurt's imagination or did Blaine suddenly look guilty after Sam's last comment?

Kurt gave Sebastian's lean form a glance. He was attractive, there was no denying it, but he was rude and callus, too. Blaine couldn't possibly like someone like Sebastian, could he? Kurt wrote down what was on the board, and tried to ignore the gnawing in the back of his mind. If the Slytherin Blaine liked (if he even liked one) was Sebastian...

He swallowed and looked between the two boys again, from Sebastian's hot gaze and the way Blaine's fingers fumbled as he wrote, the corner of Kurt's letter just poking out of his book.

Kurt had to send another one, had to at least let Blaine know that it wasn't Sebastian sending them, because if Blaine thought Sebastian was a secret romantic and went for him under that falsehood, he'd never forgive himself.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I figured after my chapter 2 mix up, that I'd go ahead and just post Chapter 3 - in the right order this time! And so that anyone confused can get an update with a note of explanation!
> 
> For those who missed that correction: I accidentally posted Chapter 3 as Chapter 2, so you may have already read this chapter as the second one. In that case, there's a new chapter 2 awaiting you. And then this one is next. Apologies again for the mistake and confusion. I'm a doofus at 4am, what can I say?
> 
> In light of this mixed up nonsense, I will **_not_ ** be posting a new chapter on Friday. I will mostly likely be posting Chapter 4 on Monday, December 8th. That way I can get my last week of college finished without worrying about posting an update.
> 
> Enjoy the new chapter, for those who haven't read this part or for those who have a new chapter 2 to peruse.

After a long day of classes and being stalked around the castle by Sebastian Smythe, Blaine was glad for the comfort of his squishy armchair by the fire in the Hufflepuff common room. Mondays were exhausting. It was like trying to work a broken wand with no spell and no hands. Around him, Sam and Mike flicked bits of parchment at each other, Sugar Motta was squealing about her new fur scarf, and a rowdy crowd of second years were attempting to help a first year get his cat off the top of one of the round windows.

Blaine watched a few of them stack more books up until they could reach the kitten. They always seemed to forget magic as an option, even the wizard-born ones.

"That's going to fall over," Blaine called as he shoved his Charms book and half-finished essay aside. The second years backed away nervously. The girl about to climb onto the books paused. "Look, _wingardium leviosa!_ "

The tabby kitten meowed and its fur puffed up in fright as Blaine lowered it into the boy's arms. When Blaine dropped back into his armchair the kitten was purring and winding itself around the boy's neck. Back at their table by the fire, Sam and Mike had started a gigantic pile of parchment balls and were stacking Exploding Snap pieces on top of them.

"You're going to lose your eyebrows," Blaine said as he flipped to the back of his Charms book to look something up. "Then they'll grow back and look like mine."

"I said I was sorry for that, like, six hundred times," Sam said with a frown. "I like them better this way. Boomerangs are awesome. Unless they come back and break your nose."

" _That_ was also one time," Blaine mumbled around his grin. The summer of their third year had meant a vacation to Australia with Cooper and his modeling entourage. While Cooper had been spray tanned and stuffed into a million different outfits, Sam and Blaine had fried themselves at the beach, learned to surf (badly), and then broken Sam's nose with a brand new boomerang. "I never did apologize. I was too busy laughing at your bloody screaming."

Sam glowered and flicked a parchment ball at him. Blaine ducked, but his hand hit his book and knocked it into the growing tower. Mike gasped as it exploded in his face. A cloud of ash and smoke engulfed his head as Sam started howling and Blaine rolled his eyes. As the other two argued over who was cleaning what up and got into another parchment ball fight, Blaine flicked back to the chapter and a folded piece of parchment slipped out.

The letter from his secret admirer. Heat poured into his cheeks as he cradled it in his hands. He glanced at Sam and Mike, found the two busy wrestling on the couch, and unfolded it. The same words from earlier, the same deep green ink, and a neat, curvy handwriting he didn't have an owner for. More than anything, he wished he could just tap his wand against the page and have it tell him who had written it, who had a crush on him, and if they were as worthwhile as they seemed.

"Oh, is this from your cutie?" A wad of bubblegum smacked next to his ear. Blaine quickly stuffed the letter into his pocket. Sugar was leaning over his shoulder with bright eyes. Sam and Mike paused in their tangled wrestling match.

"It's nothing," Blaine said, but his face burned. "Just the schedule for prefect duties next week."

Mike sat up and looked him over. "Margaret said we wouldn't have those until Thursday."

"It's a, uh, preliminary schedule," Blaine invented as he stuffed his books into his bag. "She wanted my help looking it over."

"She hates you." "She does not. It's not my fault I'm gay and she had a crush on me when we were second years."

"It was kind of funny watching you do the gentleman dodge all year," Sam said. "Finally had to tell her myself."

Sugar pouted as she draped herself over the couch and rubbed her new scarf over Blaine's face. "I missed all the good stuff."

Mike sat up and dusted his sleeves off. "Come on, what's on it?"

"It's– just a–"

" _You grow more beautiful every morning when the sunlight–"_

Blaine leapt to his feet and snatched the letter out of Sugar's hands. She'd grabbed it while she'd been rubbing the scarf all over his face. "It's _nothing_. Just a note–it's probably from some first-year girl who doesn't know I'm gay. Forget it."

"Forget it?" Mike grinned. "Since when do you not at least let us have a laugh at a note like that? It's from a _guy_ , isn't it?"

"A boy?" Sam shouted. "Let us read. I wanna see what your secret admirer has to say. If he doesn't at least comment on your round, onion booty–"

"I do _not_ have an onion booty!"

Blaine ducked past Mike and stumbled his way towards the dormitory. His bag and books could stay in the common room overnight. Nobody would mess with them except Sam and Mike. He slammed the door on the sixth year dormitory and flopped face first into his bed. Why hadn't he kept the note in his book? It would have been safe there, a secret for just him.

Blaine rolled onto his back and held the letter up over his head. Maybe it was a little cheesy, a little too clichéd or whatever else Sam and Mike were saying downstairs, but it was _his_. Someone had taken the time to write him a letter trying to express what Blaine hadn't managed in four years. He couldn't even say hi to Kurt Hummel without squealing and tripping over himself. At least this person–this boy he hoped–had done something about his feelings.

He'd write back. It was worth a chance to find out who this person was, to try to meet up somewhere and give himself a hope at something besides his fantasies. Blaine rolled back over and tugged his dresser drawer open and dug out ink, a quill, and parchment.

"Blaine?"

The door creaked open a little wider and Sam poked his head in. Blaine could just see his long blond hair through the part in his curtains. "You don't have to stay up here. We're sorry we teased you. We just figured that letter was like those notes you used to get."

"Its fine, Sam," Blaine said. He set the parchment on his bed and let Sam nudge his curtains apart. "This one was… it was really sweet. It's probably stupid."

"No, I don't think it is. A weird way to meet, but maybe it is a guy. A really sexy one that'll appreciate your onion booty."

"I don't have an onion booty!"

Blaine rammed Sam with his pillow and beat him back towards the door. He heard Sam trample back downstairs and was getting ready to shut the door when Mike appeared.

"Now you? Let me guess, you're all going to take apology turns like last time."

"We did that?" Mike looked around and then shook his head. "Look, I'm sorry. We didn't mean to upset you. We're just excited that you might have someone."

"I don't. It's probably nothing," Blaine said. He sat back down on his bed and shrugged. "They're always notes from girls, but… this one was different. It was sweet and it put into words how I feel about–forget it."

"Oh, well, that's good, right? Who's it from?"

As Mike sat down beside him, Blaine hesitated. As much as he wished he knew this person's name, he didn't. But he couldn't deny that swelling in his belly. It wasn't heavy like he'd eaten too much or like he was bloated with water or air. It was a light feeling full of warmth and something that felt like hope.

"Queen delivered it to me this morning," Blaine admitted. "No name or any hint about who it is. I've never seen the handwriting before either. It might even be a joke. It probably is."

"With a smile like yours? You're a catch, you dolt. Can I see it?"

Blaine pulled the letter out of his robe pocket and handed it to him. Mike read it and beamed. "That's adorable. Aw, I wish someone would write me a letter like this."

"I could talk to Tina about that if you want," Blaine said.

Mike shoulder checked him and laughed. "No, she'd only write about my abs." He stared at the letter for a few moments. "I don't know the handwriting either. It looks too neat to be any of the boys I know."

Blaine wilted a little. He'd thought the same thing earlier. The script was strong, but neat and curling. The only man he knew with handwriting more eccentric was Cooper.

"You should write back," Mike said after a moment. "It doesn't hurt to see if they'd say who they are. And you can ask if they're a boy or not, too. Maybe it _is_ someone you'll like. You said Queen brought you the letter?"

"Uh, yeah, at breakfast," Blaine said. "Whoever it is knew my owl."

"Well, she's easy to spot," Mike reminded him. "Only pure snowy owl in the whole castle."

Blaine nodded and picked his quill back up. "I'm going to write back. An answer is better than hoping they'll keep writing."

Mike clapped him on the shoulder and left. As the other sixth year boys slowly trickled in over the next hour, Blaine wrote and rewrote his reply. There was so much to say, but so much he shouldn't put in this first letter. What if it was just some young girl? Or a prank? Pouring his heart into a reply this soon would be stupid. He had to just stick to questions and compliments.

By the time Sam returned to the dormitory Blaine had a decent, but short, letter to send off.

"You're writing back?" Sam whispered as he changed into his pajamas. Around them the other boys snored and snuffled in their sleep.

"Yeah, I just want to see if there's anything there. Kind of stupid, I know."

"No, it's, like, romantic," Sam said. He slid into his bed and turned to look at Blaine folding up his letter. "Hey, don't look so scared. I bet it is a hot guy and you'll have a boyfriend by winter break. Then we can go on double dates in Hogsmeade for Valentine's Day. Quinn will love getting to tease you."

Blaine laughed as he crawled under his blankets and said goodnight.

In the morning, Blaine woke up after the other boys in his dormitory. It was Tuesday. His first class wasn't until noon and then there was another long break until Astronomy in the evening. Blaine yawned and climbed out of bed. After a quick shower, he put on his robes and took his letter up to the Owlery. It was still early, only a little after ten o'clock.

Inside the Owlery, it was blustery and cool. The sunlight was just starting to stream in through the long, high windows as Blaine crunched his way towards the perches. Overhead, dozens of owls had their heads tucked under their wings. Blaine stared up into the crowd for a few moments before he spotted Queen nestled way at the top between two eagle owls.

"Queen? Come here, girl!" Blaine whistled softly until she poked her head out. She glared at him and turned away. "Please? I've got bacon."

Before he could even pull the strips out of his napkin ball, she was on his shoulder. Blaine laughed as she started rubbing her head under his chin.

"All right, all right! Here." He tore a few pieces off and set them on the windowsill. After she finished the first strip, Blaine pulled the two letters from his pocket. "Question for you. There's toast in it if you're honest."

Queen cocked her head and hooted.

"The letter you brought me yesterday," Blaine continued as she inched towards the food in his napkin, "do you know who gave it to you?"

A nod and a nudge against his fist.

"Which house were they in? Was it a boy or–"

The door creaked open behind him. Queen fluttered away into the rafters as another boy entered. It was Kurt Hummel.

Blaine stood up and stuffed the letters into his pocket. His napkin of toast and bacon tumbled out of the glassless window. "H-hi."

Kurt spun around as the door clanged closed. "Hello, Anderson."

Blaine stood there as Kurt shuffled forward and called a handsome owl down to him. He should leave. Come back later or forget the whole thing. How could he even bother with some sweet anonymous person when his insides splintered like fireworks at the sight of Kurt?

"Hi, McQueen. You up for a long trip?" Kurt smiled at his owl and offered him a bite of toast.

Blaine bit his lip at the sight. For the longest time he'd thought he was the only one who snuck food for their owl. Sam and Mike always nagged him about it. Even Sugar raged at him for giving Queen an unhealthy diet. But Kurt seemed to agree with him about bribes disguised as treats.

Queen fluttered back down and settled on his shoulder as Kurt woke his owl up with more toast.

"Hey, girl. Um," Blaine watched Kurt for another moment before turning towards the window. "I've got a delivery for you."

Queen shook her head and hooted loudly. Behind him, Kurt scuffled around through the old mice bones.

"She's beautiful."

Kurt stopped beside him at the window. Blaine's stomach felt like it was trying to float out of his body. He nodded as Kurt's owl fluttered down onto the windowsill.

"My brother gave her to me when I got my Hogwarts letter," Blaine said. He didn't know what else to say, but at least he'd managed a few words. "Her name's Queen."

"Really? This is McQueen after the–"

"Fashion designer," Blaine finished. Kurt laughed as he squatted down to tie his letter to his owl's leg. "That's cute. I, uh, I named her after the band, Queen."

Kurt finished tying his letter on. "Take this to Dad, okay?"

McQueen hooted and took off out the window.

"You writing home, too?" Kurt asked as Blaine dug into his pocket for the letter he wanted to send. He didn't want to tell Queen what to do in front of Kurt. He'd look even stupider than he already did.

"Um, to my brother," Blaine lied. "He's in America right now modeling some new line of robes."

"Oh, he's the one in the magazines! _Wizard of the Robes_ cover boy, Cooper Anderson. He's gorgeous," Kurt babbled. His cheeks turned pink. He kicked at a few bones on the floor. "I've had the biggest crush on him when I was eleven."

Blaine swallowed and looked away. Of course. Kurt liked Cooper. Even when he wasn't in the same country, Cooper was still the better one. He didn't stand a chance, even less than before. He tugged the letter out of his pocket and looked at it.

"Yeah, that's Cooper." Blaine cleared his throat. "I guess you've got to get to class."

Kurt startled a little and his smile faltered. "Well, I have to finish that Transfiguration essay for this afternoon. Um, I'll see you in class?"

Blaine nodded sadly and watched Kurt shut the door behind himself. Queen hooted softly at him and nudged his chin with her head. Kurt Hummel was a closed door to him. But this letter, this secret admirer wasn't.

"Take it back to him," he said. Blaine offered his reply to Queen and she grasped it with her beak before flying out the window. He sat and watched her circle around the tower and out of sight. Someone, somewhere, would get his reply shortly and he only hoped they'd be brave enough to write him back.

* * *

All day Kurt bubbled from his toes to his cheeks. Blaine had spoken to him! Sure, it had only been in the Owlery and about nothing important, but it was something. Those few moments had been more than he'd ever dared to dream up since July. And Blaine had been writing to someone, too.

As Professor Binns droned on about some legislative amendment from 1891, Kurt stared off towards the window. History of Magic was one of his favorite subjects despite the dull professor. Looking up facts, reading about how things had transformed and changed to get to this moment, was something he enjoyed. Of course, the rest of his year-mates didn't seem to agree. There were only seven who had continued on to N.E.W.T. level; a few sturdy Ravenclaws, Mercedes Jones from Gryffindor, one Hufflepuff whose name escaped Kurt, and then himself and Sebastian. Clearly they'd never bothered to read the textbooks and had tried to rely solely on Binn's reedy, yawn-inducing voice. History was fun, and not continuing such an exciting subject was silly. Even Blaine, for all his intelligence, hadn't chosen this class.

"Are you going to take notes for us or not?"

Kurt glowered at Sebastian and continued twirling his quill. "Take your own notes."

"I sell mine at a high price," Sebastian said. He rested his head on his hand and looked over at Kurt. "Besides, you catch all the stupid details on the tests."

"Because I read the damn book, Smythe." Kurt turned away and looked out the window to his right. It was clear and bright outside. After his surprise meeting in the Owlery, Kurt had taken his Transfiguration essay outside to finish by the lake. He hoped it would stay nice at least until Quidditch season so he could enjoy the sun for a few weeks.

"Why you aren't a Ravenclaw, I'll never know." Sebastian sighed and kicked his chair back against the wall.

Up front, Professor Binns continued to drone on about the 1891 Goblin Legislation Bill as Kurt zoned out. Maybe it was stupid to take this class at N.E.W.T. level. It would look nice on a resume, but sitting through it wouldn't be much fun. Professor Sylvester would let him drop, then he could just read the book in his free time and avoid chatty hour with Sebastian.

"So what do you think about Anderson? Certainly sharpened his little mop-top up, hasn't he?"

Kurt stiffened and tried not to grind his teeth. He had to deflect Sebastian's interest, had to cut him off without Sebastian realizing it. But how? The only way Kurt would still be accepted by the other Slytherins was if he turned Blaine into a conquest and he would never do that to anyone.

"Still a Puff," Kurt said slowly. He watched an owl swoop past outside and was hit with a spark of inspiration. "He looked better when his hair hid that awful face. I can't believe you, of all people, would chase _that_."

"Why wouldn't I?" Sebastian demanded. His chair legs clattered back down. The other five students paused to stare back at them, but Professor Binns continued like he always did. Kurt was sure ghosthood came paired with deafness.

"Why would you? A Gryffindor I would understand. It's fun to mess with them, but what's the point of a Hufflepuff? They're just… ugh."

Sebastian stared at him for a long moment. He was thinking it over, hopefully buying it, or talking himself out of it with just that little nudge. Kurt met his eyes and schooled his face into a bored expression. The less interested he was, the better chance he had at changing Sebastian's mind.

"Quidditch," Sebastian said carefully. "If I fuck that tight little ass and then stomp on his heart, Berry might actually manage to beat him."

"Right, let's piss an Anderson off and hope that makes Rachel's job easier."

Sebastian flushed at his words. Everyone who was anyone knew about the Anderson family. They'd been around for longer than Sebastian's and Kurt's combined and as long as any of the other pureblood families. Each Anderson who was note-worthy was famous for never backing down, and Blaine's own mother and her glorious Quidditch career were proof of that. There was even a section in their history book from fourth year that mentioned Blaine's great-great-great times six grandmother and her fight for centaur rights.

"But he's so meek. He's not like the rest of them. That's why he's a tosser in Hufflepuff and not some brash idiot in scarlet."

"And when you mess with him and his mother finds out, guess who's going to be out of a job, Smythe? Three hints, he's responsible for squirting you in your mother."

As Sebastian frowned and twisted his hands, Kurt glanced back out the window. Maybe he was being too aggressive about this, but there was truth to his words. Blaine's mother, Marcia Anderson, visited Kurt's father's Quidditch shop several times a year and he'd seen firsthand how protective she was of her younger son. These days, she was the head Quidditch correspondent at the Daily Prophet, and Sebastian's father (as much as he loathed it) was her employee. They'd played together in the league, two seekers on rival squads that had become rather legendary in the twenty years they faced off. Every match, Marcia beat him and nobody ever let the Smythes forget it.

Blaine wasn't like them, Sebastian had that right. He was softer, kinder to those he didn't know, and more willing to stop and talk than rush into action. But he had some of that fire, too, and Kurt was willing to bet he'd be a churning vortex is Sebastian managed to hurt him.

"I–he'd be furious if she fired him," Sebastian admitted after a few minutes. He stabbed his parchment with his quill and growled. "He wants nothing more than to get her fired and take over, and–damnit, Hummel. Why can't you use that brain to find me a sharp Seeker instead of skinning my ass before my father does?"

"More fun to mess up your plans," Kurt said. He held in his sigh of relief at the hopeful end of Sebastian's conquest. Sebastian wouldn't pursue Blaine for anything serious–he didn't go after anyone for more than a fling–and unless he found a way around his father's job, then Kurt was safe.

Sort of.

A school owl had landed on the window ledge and hooted softly at Kurt.

"What's it doing up here?"

Kurt ignored Sebastian and unlatched the window. It was a school barn owl, not McQueen or Queen which was a relief. Blaine's owl was quite smart and listened to his requests well. The owl hopped in, dropped the scroll in its beak on Kurt's desk, and took off out the window.

"Letter from home," Kurt said. It took all of his self-control to say it slowly and with a frown. It was a reply from Blaine. He'd seen enough of Blaine's handwriting this week to recognize it, but it made his chest twang slightly to see "Secret Admirer" written in that hand. "Checking up with my dad, you know."

Sebastian frowned in return. It was common knowledge that Kurt's father had suffered a heart attack two summers ago. Even Sebastian had been sympathetic when he'd heard what had happened and the long recovery process.

"How's he, uh, doing? Not trying his hand at some Muggle hopscotch, I hope."

Kurt snorted. "Hos-pi-tal. Hopscotch is a kid's game. He's better compared to before. And do you really think Hudson would be my stepbrother if he'd hadn't been going to St. Mungo's? That's where he met Carole."

"Oh, right. I forgot about that," Sebastian said with a shrug. He stretched his arms over his head as Kurt tucked the letter into his bag. "How is that troll ass these days? Still lumbering around the pitch, way I hear it."

"Only thing he seems handy with is a bat," Kurt agreed. Finn was the Captain and a Beater for the Gryffindor Quidditch team. A second later, Sebastian chuckled and Kurt rolled his eyes. "What?"

"From what I hear from your four-poster, you're more than capable with a bat yourself." Sebastian grinned and did his usual full-body glance just to see if Kurt would squirm. He didn't. "You wouldn't happen to be handy with a broomstick would you, because–"

"I am not doing anything with your alleged broomstick, Smythe. I imagine it's much more of a twig than anything else," Kurt bit back.

"It–no, piss off, Hummel. I'm talking Quidditch," Sebastian continued and for once he looked serious. "Look, Berry's a little shit, okay? I know you can play, what with your family owning a shop for six generations."

"My dad's a Squib, remember?"

"Do I ever let you forget it? He still makes fantastic brooms, and your mom played internationally," Sebastian said. "Look, I'm sick of Berry's drama and I've finally got a chance to get rid of her. I'm Captain now, and I'm holding trials this weekend, no reserves or favorites. As much as I hate saying it, and you know I do, she's easily the best unless there's a miracle first year that staggers onto the pitch and has the snitch fly into their mouth. Do you play Seeker?"

"Once, in Little League," Kurt finally said. And that was perfectly true. He'd been a fantastic seeker as a young child, all the way up until Hogwarts when he stopped. Playing for his house team had been a huge dream when he was little, he could be just like his mother if he did, but then he'd met his house team and thought better of it. They'd kicked him out of tryouts that first year, both for being a scrawny firstie and for what he was wearing. "I haven't played in years and I doubt I'm any good."

"No first year tries out unless they're the best," Sebastian snapped. His fist hit their table as the dismissal bell rang. "I know you went to that tryout. Berry told me because she had every intention of sabotaging you if you'd showed up second year. She's such a–ugh. Tryouts are Saturday morning. If you aren't there, you'll be very cross with yourself."

Sebastian snatched up his bag and left. It was a threat more than anything, and Kurt wished he had a way out of it. Unless he thought of something, he'd have to tryout and either stun everyone or flop. Flopping wasn't an option, not in front of his Slytherin peers.

With a snarl working up his throat, Kurt slammed his textbook shut and hurried downstairs for dinner. Sebastian wasn't there when Kurt arrived and he hoped he wouldn't show until he was finished. Rachel and Santana were at the middle of the table. As usual the younger students had given them a wide berth, while the seventh years speckled the end closest to the entrance hall. Kurt slid onto the bench beside Santana and dragged a dish of chicken towards himself.

"What do you have to look so pissy about?" Santana snapped when she caught sight of him. Kurt glanced up and saw the frown pulling her face down. Rachel didn't look any better. Apparently news of the tryouts had already spread, though how he wasn't sure. Sebastian hadn't made the announcement yet from what he understood. With any luck, he was making the post on the notice board in the common room right now. That gave Kurt twenty minutes to stuff his face and leave. "Well?"

"Smythe being his usual self," Kurt settled on. "I'm stuck with him sodding my ear off in history."

"Ew, why would you take history? That class is just a long nap," Rachel said.

"He gets a boner over that old ghost's warbling tones," Santana said loudly. A few Ravenclaws paused and looked over at them. "I can't believe Smythe is taking it."

"Not much else he can take with his O.W.L.s," Rachel said happily. "He's lucky he can take any classes at all. I wish he couldn't. Then _I'd_ be Captain and–"

"Oh, would you shut up about Quidditch," Kurt snapped. "That's all he talked about and I'm sick of hearing it."

Santana and Rachel exchanged looks and Kurt almost mentioned the tryouts, then thought better of it. Let them find out on their own.

"Oh, what do you care if we talk Quidditch? Do you have any idea how much work it takes to play?" Rachel said. She glared at him, swung her hair a little and Santana's fork clattered to her plate as she covered her face. The hair swing always meant a rant. "I get up early every day to fly laps, to do physical exercise like a _Muggle_ , and then to catch walnuts. _Walnuts,_ Kurt. I'd like to see you try that. Oh, wait, that's right. You can't play Quidditch, can you? You couldn't even stay on your broomstick during Flying lessons first year."

"Yeah, he could," Santana mumbled. "Better than Smythe as I recall."

"I was still the best!" Rachel screeched. She glared at Kurt and stood up.

Kurt stared at her, suddenly hot all over his face and neck. He could play, even if he'd never done so around them. And he _was_ a better flyer than her. The only reason he had held back was because he hadn't wanted his dad to find out and encourage him after those stupid tryouts the week before flying lessons had started. That had been enough of a disaster without making his dad worry about him being bullied while he was away at school.

"Did you ever think maybe I blew that race on purpose?" Kurt asked softly. "That maybe, just because you're full of yourself and slap it in everyone else's faces, that I don't? I am better than you, Berry, and I always have been."

Rachel gaped at him and mouthed wordlessly for a moment. "You are not! You take that back, Kurt Hummel."

"Nope, I can't," Kurt said with a little snarky shrug. "Truth's out just like me." He slapped a heap of mashed potatoes onto his plate and then a piece of steak. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to eat and ignore your Banshee mouth."

Santana cackled happily as Rachel snarled and made a big show of flouncing out of the hall.

"Oh, I miss having you in all of my classes," Santana said as she piled roast beef onto her plate. "It's always nice to have another sharp wit around with her bellowing about her superiority complex."

Kurt grunted and stuffed a spoonful of mashed potatoes into his mouth. "Wh' 'aha 'las's 'ou 'ak'n?"

She rolled her eyes and then stuffed a piece of roast beef into her mouth. For a few minutes they gibbered at each other with their mouths full, before swallowing.

"Not much," Santana said finally. "I don't see the point when I'm just going to play Quidditch. Charms, Herbology, Transfiguration, Astronomy, Divination, Care of Magical Creatures, and Potions. Most of those are so I can see Britt more."

Kurt nodded even as he made a face. "Divination? Why would you ever want to continue that?"

"Because Professor Holliday is easy and kind of hot," Santana explained. "Me and Britt like to sit there and imagine a threesome with her." Kurt grimaced and gagged as Santana pushed her peas around. "I might drop it, though, since Berry's in there and insists on sitting with us. That Brett kid in your dormitory takes it, but she won't go near him. Says he smells like stale potions."

"She's not wrong," Kurt said. "I keep catching Sebastian disinfecting our room because of the smell. Like troll feet fermenting in goblin piss."

Santana crinkled her nose and said nothing. They finished their dinners in silence and left the Great Hall together. At the marble staircase, Brittany was waiting.

"Charms homework when I get back?" Santana asked as Brittany bopped forward and pecked her cheek. "Hi." They kissed properly as Kurt nodded.

"We can compare and edit each other's essays," he said. "I'm mostly done. We've got a free period in the morning if we need it."

"See you in the common room."

Kurt watched the two disappear up the stairs and out of sight. Seeing them was a little saddening and also a reminder of the letter still hidden away in his bag. He headed down the dungeon steps, turned down the first corridor and ducked into the bathroom. It was empty as always. Nobody used it because it was too dark and cold down here.

Still, Kurt locked the door with a wave of his wand and shut himself in a stall. He pulled the letter out and, with trembling fingers, unfolded it.

_Hi,_

_Um, that sounds really lame, but I don't know your name. Your letter was lovely, though. It made my day, but I have to ask: are you a boy? I'm gay, you see, and I've gotten a few letters (not as beautiful as yours) from girls before, so I just want to be sure._

_If you are a boy, I'd love to hear from you again. Or meet up sometime. You seem really sweet and kind, so I hope you write back, even if it's only to say you're not a boy._

_Sincerely,_

_Blaine_

Kurt couldn't stop his feet from stamping. He grinned as he read the letter a second, and then third, time. Blaine thought he was sweet! He wanted him to write back! He tucked the letter into his pocket and almost skipped down to the Slytherin common room. Sebastian was just inside, pinning his tryout notice up on the board with a murmuring crowd of third years looking on.

He took one look at Kurt and laughed.

"Look like you finally got some ass."

"Shut up, I–what are you lot looking at?" The third years scrambled away from the notice board, whispering. "I–my dad's going great," Kurt said as he glanced at the tryout notice. His stomach gave a pleasant little leap. "Really great. Next Saturday at ten? I'll be there."

"Really? I'm not going to have to blackmail you into being on the team?" Sebastian stared at him steadily for a few moments. "If you make it, I mean."

"I will," Kurt said sharply. "You tell Berry her days are numbered. I've got a nice broom at home I'm going to have Dad send up. She won't know a handle from a twig once I'm done with her."

Sebastian chortled and clapped him on the back before returning to his chair by the fire. Kurt smiled grimly at the notice and the chance he'd missed out on so long ago. This time he would try out and prove everyone wrong once and for all.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, apologies for this being so late. Sorry sorry sorry! December was much more hectic than expected. Manuscript editing stages to get through, graduation from college, my niece's first birthday, Christmas, and the retail madness that is my job this time of year. However, I'm back with a short chapter. I figured it was better to post a chapter with only one POV and get it out before the New Year than to extend then unexpected hiatus for even longer.
> 
> So yes, update party! Woohoo!
> 
> Also, my book announcement has arrived, and yes, it is a new, altered version of Go Your Own Way. You can find more information on my blog (zane-riley.com) and at Interlude Press (interludepress.com)! Oh, and cover art! :D Very excited about it!
> 
> Onward with the Hogwarts boys! Allons-y!

The first day after his reply stretched longer than the week that followed. Blaine spent all of breakfast searching the ceiling for Queen, for a sign of any owl fluttering his way, but none appeared. Sugar was the only person near him to receive anything, but boxes of chocolates and fingernail polishes weren't love letters. By the following Wednesday, Blaine gave up hope despite Mike and Sam insisting he continue to wait.

"He's probably scared," Sam said as they sat down to breakfast. He scanned the cloudy ceiling and frowned. "I mean, who writes an anonymous love letter and expects a reply?"

Mike waved as he joined Tina at the Ravenclaw table. Elliott Gilbert and Dani Greene, two seventh year Hufflepuffs, took seats beside them.

"Morning, Blaine, Sam," Elliott greeted. He gave them a wide smile as Dani yawned and finished tying back her dark blond hair. "Scanning the skies again?"

Blaine grumbled as Sam said, "Well, if Blaine won't keep looking, then I will."

Dani patted Blaine's shoulder and shrugged. "I don't blame you for giving up, if you are. It probably was a silly girl, and she's too embarrassed to write back."

Sam kicked Blaine under the table.

"Ouch, Sam! What was that for?"

"I was aiming for her," Sam snapped. He waved his fork in Dani's face. "He's going to write back. I bet he's just, like, editing his love letter so he doesn't talk too much about your onion booty yet."

"I do not have—"

Elliott cleared his throat. "You do, actually. Very plump." He laughed at Blaine's stunned expression. "Not that I'm interested, relax. Asexual, remember? I'm not really into, well, any of that."

"Onions aren't plump," Blaine said. "That doesn't make any sense."

"It does!" Sam insisted. He shoveled eggs and bacon into his mouth, then climbed to his feet as the last of the Ravenclaws filed out in a wave. "Divination, gotta go! Search the skies, Blaine. He's gonna write back!"

Blaine glowered at the table as Sam left. His first class was Defense, but it wasn't until lunch time. Dani finished her plate and rested her head on his shoulder.

"So what did this love letter say? It's all Sugar will talk about. The rest of the girls are smitten with it, too. I think some of them are disappointed."

"It was… I don't know. Sweet. It doesn't matter now." Blaine ducked under the table to pull out his Defense essay for a final revision. There was nothing else to do anymore. The only single person he knew now was Elliott and he was so busy running half the clubs in the school that he was only around for a few meals a week.

Dani gave him a little hug as he propped his book open against the juice jug. "You'll find someone some day, Blaine. Sweet guy like you, it won't be much longer." She stood up and shouldered her bag. "I'm going to meet Melissa. Post-breakfast date. Bye!"

Elliott shoved a piece of toast between his teeth and waved as he stood, too. " G' c'ub me'tin. 'ater!"

Blaine watched them both disappear into the entrance hall. Dani stopped at the Gryffindor table to pick up Melissa, and Elliott thundered out of the room. Everyone was busy. Busy with romance and relationships and great things in their lives. He buttered a piece of toast, stacked his scrambled eggs on half, and folded it over. It was time he gave up on pinning and hoping. His mother always said wishful thinking meant nothing without drive and hard work. Without a reply or a real person to get to know, he couldn't do either.

He scanned his book, checking the last few facts he hadn't had time for last night, when something clattered down on the table.

Queen hooted at him.

Surprised, Blaine looked up past his book and saw a letter in her beak. Deep green ink, that same curly scrawl that had left an imprint in his mind. Blaine snatched the letter up, his throat thumping with the rhythm of his heart. He wrote back. His secret admirer—please be a boy—had finally sent him a reply. After a quick glance around the almost empty hall, Blaine opened the letter.

_Blaine,_

_I'm sorry this reply took so long. The first few weeks back are always so hectic. Actually, I'm sorry I started this letter that way, too. I bet you read those first two words and assumed I was apologizing for thinking you were straight and that I was some girl like you feared, but I'm not. Like yourself, I'm gay, but very… shy, I suppose. At least in this way. I've wanted to say something to you—ask you out even—for months now, but I can't. It's complicated. It would be amazing if we kept writing, though I don't think I'm ready to meet up._

_I hope that isn't a problem for now and that you'll still want to write me back. You're such an amazing boy. Intelligent and kind and so talented. It's always a thrill to watch you on the pitch, especially when you beat Rachel Berry. I also hope you don't think I'm Sebastian Smythe. I know he's been interested lately, but he's not me. Not by a long shot._

_This letter is getting really lame, isn't it? I'm sorry again. I want to get to know you, but if… if my friends found out—if either of our friends realized—we'd both lose them. I don't want that, and somehow I don't think you would either. That's not much of an excuse, I know, but some of my fellow Slytherins (and yes I am one. I hope that doesn't turn you away) have a lot of difficulty with change. I don't want you to have to deal with trouble from them because of me._

_Sincerely,_

_Your Admirer_

Blaine reread the letter twice before setting it down. It was a relief to know that his secret admirer was a boy, but it was also a letdown, too. Just letters, perhaps only letters that may fizzle out completely some day. He wilted a little at the thought, but as he reread the final paragraph, the second to last sentence caught his attention. A Slytherin! This boy was in Slytherin. Could he be—if it was Kurt, the boy he'd dreamt about and liked for years—

But there were a lot of boys in Slytherin. In particular, a lot of queer boys in Slytherin. Blaine counted off the ones he was certain about. Two fourth years, a fifth year that was bisexual, a pansexual seventh year, and then Sebastian Smythe, Kurt Hummel, and Dave Karofsky for sixth years and—

What if it was Dave? Blaine grimaced and glanced down at the letter. He seemed like a decent guy these days, but several years ago he'd been less than friendly. Blaine hoped it wasn't him, because he wasn't interested after the way that boy had treated him, Kurt Hummel, and several others.

For the rest of the day, Blaine worked on a list of suspects in Slytherin. He tentatively ruled out Sebastian Smythe since the letter had said that was wrong, but he imagined it was possible that was a lie. How much could he trust this boy to be truthful when he refused to meet in person?

But that still left a decent list of seven. Fourth years, Adrian Jonstin and Trevor Roster; fifth year Michael Burton; Kurt Hummel and David Karofsky from his own year (with a maybe on Sebastian Smythe); and then Jesse St. James and Alex Hernandez from seventh year. Blaine couldn't rule any of them out even though half of them were dating one another or, in Jesse St. James case, dating Rachel Berry. Blaine wasn't sure what to think of it. He didn't know any of the boys, and had only spoken to Kurt once. If it was Kurt. Was it worth to keep writing if it meant helping some of those boys cheat?

Thursday morning, Blaine headed to Care of Magical Creatures by himself. He was the only Hufflepuff taking the N.E.W.T. level course, and so far he wasn't enjoying it. Last week they'd done the usual reminders and reviews on safety procedures, and Blaine had ended up partnered with Professor Beiste. Of all the Hogwarts professors he'd had classes with, she was easily the nicest, if a bit stranger than most.

He arrived in the entrance hall where they met just as the Slytherins came up from the dungeons. A large group of Ravenclaws came down the marble stairs, and Brittany Pierce skipped right over to Santana Lopez for a big kiss.

"Hey, love."

"Hi. Do you think we'll be finding unicorn beetles today?"

"I doubt it," Santana said. "I don't think those are around Hogwarts."

Kurt Hummel snorted beside her. "I don't think they're real at all, Britt."

"Of course they are. Bubblegum tortoises and unicorn beetles are everywhere if you know how to look."

Blaine watched the trio for a few minutes, took in the way the two girls held hands and how Kurt's eyes looked over the entire group until Professor Beiste arrived.

"All right, you lot. We're going to be spending the majority of this first term down by the lake, studying what lives in there. From now on we'll be meeting there for class unless the weather's awful. Come on. Follow me."

Blaine followed behind the group as the Gryffindors rushed ahead and the Ravenclaws and Slytherins filed down the hillside to the lake shore. They set up their quills and opened their book to the chapter on Grindylows as Professor Beiste broke them into groups. He was pleased to see they were groups of three and four this week so that he wouldn't be left out.

Professor Beiste broke up the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws, and arrived at the Slytherins, Brittany, and himself last.

"Lopez, Pierce, Hummel, and Anderson, you four by the bushes down there, okay? And no sneaking off, girls. I won't have a repeat of last June."

Santana rolled her eyes, and Brittany beamed and came over to Blaine. "Hi, Blainey. You cut your hair this year so you look like Elvin."

"Elvis," Blaine corrected as they headed to the water.

"That's some stupid Muggle, isn't it?" Santana asked.

Kurt said nothing as they sat down at the edge of the lake.

"He's a singer my dad likes," Brittany said. "You'd like him, Santana. More than Quidditch."

"I wouldn't," Santana said. "Nothing's better than Quidditch except your—"

"Nope! I don't want to hear about your sex life!" Kurt shouted and yanked on Santana's robes until she sat down. "Anderson doesn't either, do you?"

Blaine flushed a little. "Um, no, that's… no."

He sat down on Kurt's other side as Brittany sat beside Santana. As Kurt re-explained the assignment to Santana and Brittany, Blaine watched him. Was it him? Could he be so lucky to have Kurt admiring him from afar? But if it was Kurt, then why was he frightened of his friends not liking Blaine? Brittany liked him well enough, and Santana was hostile toward everyone. The others rarely said a word to him, but they were Quidditch rivals, so hostility wasn't surprising. Was he just wasting his time dreaming instead of asking the boy right beside him?

"I can't believe Smythe thinks you're trying out for Quidditch this weekend," Santana was saying. "You fell off your broom first year, remember? What's he got on you?"

"What makes you think he's got anything on me?" Kurt asked as he checked the lake's temperature with his wand. "Maybe I'm just sick of listening to Rachel think she's Merlin's gift to Quidditch."

"You're trying out for Seeker?" Blaine said before he could stop himself.

Kurt nodded and looked at him for the first time since they'd gathered in the entrance hall. It was like the look he'd given him the Owlery. Kind, uncertain, even a little hopeful. "Um, yeah, it's… I wanted to when I was little, but the team my first year just laughed at me and didn't give me a chance."

"Oh, boy, here he goes." Santana tossed her quill aside and grabbed Brittany's hand. "Come on. Let's sneak into the bushes for a snog before Beiste notices."

"Santana, if you get us into trouble—"

But the girls were already gone. Blaine watched the bushes rustle a bit before the girls were too far away to be seen.

"It can't be comfortable," Blaine said.

"What?"

"Trying to snog in bushes, I mean. I've never, like, um, tried, but wouldn't you get twigs in your hair and scratches everywhere?"

Kurt frowned back at the bushes. "I hope so. I'm so sick of everyone else having someone to—never mind. So, um, what'd you get for water temperature?"

"Fifteen degrees Celsius," Blaine said. He couldn't bring himself to say anything about Kurt not dating anyone. "Same as you. I wonder how cold it is at the bottom."

"If it has a bottom. I heard they used to during the Triwizard Tournament once, a long time ago. They said the Durmstrang ship rose right up out of it. I figure it must connect underground to, like, the ocean and seas or something. Wouldn't that be wicked?"

"It'd be fun to explore. I wonder if we'll have a class in the lake at some point."

Kurt nodded and went back to scribbling on his parchment. He was so beautiful, so simple in how he existed beside Blaine. It would be more than a dream could ever offer if Kurt was his admirer, if he was given that chance to have a fantastic boy like him back.

"What? Is there something on my face?"

Blaine jumped and blushed. "N-nothing. Sorry. I was just thinking about…" He bit his lip instead of saying anything about the letters he'd been receiving. If it was Kurt, he wouldn't admit it out here in the open. He might even stop writing if Blaine pestered him. Or tease him and tell everyone who didn't already know. "Quidditch. I was thinking about Quidditch. Your tryouts this weekend. I think you can beat her. As long as you stay on your broom."

Kurt glowered at him. "I won't fall."

Blaine laughed and shook his head. "I'm kidding. I'm sure you'll be great. Rachel's good, but she's sort of… well…"

"Over the top? Pain in the ass?"

"A bit… selfish. Doesn't put the team first. That's what Quidditch is about, really. Being part of a team. I think you'll give them that."

Kurt smiled slightly and then looked away. "Maybe. My dad will be proud. He owns a Quidditch shop in—"

"Diagon Alley," Blaine said. "My mom shops there for all our equipment. Nobody makes a racing broom like Burt Hummel."

This time Kurt beamed, his cheeks flushed as the distant boom of the bell reached their ears.

"Pack up and get going, boys," Professor Beiste said. "Are those two in the bushes again? Lopez! Pierce! It'll be detention if I caught you two at it again!"

Blaine and Kurt headed into the entrance hall together and stopped at the marble staircase.

"Good luck this weekend."

"Yeah, thanks," Kurt said. "Um, I'll see you in Potions tomorrow?"

Blaine nodded. "Maybe at your tryouts, too. We have practice right before, so… I might stick around to see how it goes?"

"Spying on the competition?" But Kurt was smirking in a kind way.

"If you don't mind, I will. Smythe will probably kick me out if he sees me watching."

"Then don't get caught. I'm sure you've got a little Slytherin in you somewhere, right?" Kurt headed up the marble staircase and turned at the top. "See you."

Blaine stood there until crowds began to pass around him. Some groups headed into the dungeons, others up the marble staircase. Elliott appeared from the dungeons.

"You okay? You look a little dazed."

"I got another letter," Blaine said. "It's, um, the boy's a Slytherin."

"So?"

"I'm going to keep writing."

"Good. I'd kick you in your sleep if you didn't."

Elliott took him by the robe and lead him into the Great Hall.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -rises from the fog like Mushu- I LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE!
> 
> And this is why I haven't been setting dates for posting now. Because its going to be sporadic at best. My inspiration is just... not fluffy. I'm in major angst mode lately, which makes it very difficult to write and focus on fluffy Hogwarts!Klaine.
> 
> As with last time, this is only one POV. Kurt this time.
> 
> My aim is going to be for an update every 2-3 weeks, but there's really no guarantees right now. I've got a lot of other writing projects that take up time, but I'm hoping getting this chapter written will help me write this story faster. We shall see!
> 
> Enjoy the update!

Kurt shouldered his broom and examined himself in the mirror in the Quidditch locker rooms. In ten minutes, tryouts began. The Hufflepuff team was just finishing up, Blaine swooping and diving in loops and swerves all over the stadium to gasps and boos from the students—mostly Slytherins—who had come to watch.

As more footsteps thundered overhead, Kurt turned to look himself over. He looked good in his house colors. He'd look even better once he had an official Slytherin uniform. The door swung open on the locker room and the Hufflepuff team trooped in, sweaty and smelling of dirt. Blaine spotted him and beamed.

Kurt's stomach turned over as he pulled at his green sweater.

"It looks fine," Blaine said. He set his broom down beside Kurt and gave him a once over. "Shouldn't you be on the field?"

Kurt swallowed and nodded. He could beat Rachel, even with all of his house here to watch. By yesterday afternoon, every last one of them had heard he was trying to steal her spotlight. Rachel was furious. She'd spent all of dinner stabbing anything that came close to her plate, and when they'd all returned to the common room she'd given everyone a long rant about how awful he was as a friend.

"Um, y-yeah." Kurt adjusted his sleeves and robes, checked the laces on his boots.

"Good luck. You're going to be great."

Even Blaine couldn't convince him of that, but when he turned to Blaine he was met with a kind smile. For one fleeting moment, he felt braver.

"Everyone's out there," Kurt said instead of thanking him.

Blaine nodded. "They've been pouring in for the last twenty minutes. Hey, come on. You've got this, right? Way I hear it, you wanted to try out first year, so you must be good. Just show them what you've got."

Kurt breathed deeply and tried to nod, but he only jerked his head down. He could do this. He had to. Now that he was here, he'd never live it down if he didn't go out onto that field.

"If you're going to be sick—"

"I'm not." Kurt shook his head a little and glanced at Blaine. His mouth fell open. Blaine was beside him, sweaty, smiling, and now shirtless. His Quidditch jersey was on the bench beside them. "I-I-I…"

Sebastian's head appeared in the doorway. Fortunately, Blaine was blocked from his sight by the lockers.

"Get your arse out here, Hummel! I am not forfeiting this spot to Berry because you're too busy checking yourself out in the mirror."

Blaine shrugged at him, nodded his head towards the doorway. "Good luck!"

Kurt tried to nod again, but ended up back pedaling and watching the shifting muscles of Blaine's abdomen, the tight leanness of his chest, and the impressive tapering from his shoulders to his waist. He swallowed, almost tripped himself, and hurried onto the field.

"Anyone who thinks they're a Seeker over here," Sebastian was hollering. "That means you, Berry. You're no Seeker of mine with that attitude."

Kurt followed the surprisingly small group over to where Sebastian had pointed. Himself, Rachel, and two girls, probably third or fourth years. He supposed anyone with interest had decided to try antoher position once the rumors had spread about him and Rachel battling for the spot. Nobody would want to get between them.

Sebastian continued dividing everyone up into their positions, and then began trial runs with Keepers.

"This is ridiculous," Rachel muttered. She sunk onto the bench at the edge of the pitch and glowered at him. "And all because  _you_  think you're so much better than me. I'll have you know, Hummel, that I'm—"

"Spare me a repeat of last night," Kurt said. "I'm trying out because I want to play, not because you're a selfish little—"

Blaine stepped out of the locker rooms, waved, and headed up into the stands. Rachel snarled.

"Why's Anderson staying? And who's he waving—oh my god." Rachel stared at a spot ten foot from the direction of Blaine's wave, which happened to be right where Sebastian was standing. "Are Smythe and Anderson—no way. No  _way._  That's what this is about?"

Kurt's stomach knotted as Rachel talked herself into some ludicrous scenario. He listened for a few minutes as Rachel deduced that Sebastian and Blaine were snogging, and that Blaine—sweet, kind Blaine—had convinced Sebastian to hold Seeker tryouts to find someone "better". Which to Rachel meant someone who was awful so that Blaine could guarantee Hufflepuff won the Quidditch Cup in the spring.

Kurt snorted and rolled his eyes. But he was glad she hadn't noticed the wave was aimed his direction. Part of him wished it hadn't been. Secret letters were one thing, but all of a sudden they were talking, being friendly… and then what? If they were friends that would draw attention, and Kurt's friends would have something to say about it. He shifted his legs, pulled one over the other, then dropped it back to the ground and draped his broom across his lap.

"Do you even listen to yourself?" Kurt asked. "Do you really think Anderson, of all people, could think that up? He's smart, sure, but he's a Hufflepuff, not a conniving little Slytherin. Last week, I spotted him helping some first year who was crying because she'd tripped down the stairs."

"He's competitive enough," Rachel said. Her eyes followed Blaine into the stands and she glared at him as he sat off on his own at the top. "I bet he's here to sabotage me. He'll use some sort of spell so I'm awful. Like a-a Confundus Charm or—"

"Stop chatting and get up, Berry!" Sebastian's voice carried over the muttering crowd of Chasers. "You're up first for Seeker."

"And I'll be the first choice, too!"

Rachel huffed and took flight. Kurt watched her trial. All around the stadium, Sebastian had everyone from the Keeper tryouts in a circle, each with golf balls in hand to throw one after the other as they flew around the stadium. The goal for each Seeker was to catch as many as possible within two minutes while weaving amongst the Keepers. Any that were caught would turn green, and those that weren't turned red.

Despite Kurt's certainty, he had to admit that Rachel was good. She swerved and dived smoothly, caught and released one after the other, but she missed several in the middle, lost her rhythm, and ended by missing six of the last ten. When she landed, a third of the golf balls on the ground were red. Kurt's chest tightened. If that was the best she had in her today, then he was golden.

Rachel stomped off into the locker room instead of waiting around. Sebastian had the two younger girls go next, and they weren't bad, but weren't any better than Rachel. They each split the field with green and red.

"Hummel, you're up!"

Kurt stood, his legs shaking and his eyes scanning the stands until he saw Blaine. He was on his feet, that enormous smile still on his face, and for a moment, Kurt could see them. Together, happy, strolling around the lake or in Hogsmeade on a date. They could be everything he pictured if he'd stop being so afraid of his friends—of losing all of them and being judged and ridiculed by the entire school.

He mounted his broom and took off, leaving the fluttering in his stomach on the ground. For the last week, he'd been out here flying and practicing. Being in the air was a relief. This was the one thing he would always be able to do.

Sebastian's whistle blew and Kurt took off. He dove for the first, his eyes already tracking the next on his left. For two minutes, he swooped and loop-de-looped and dived and rolled, catching one and then another. By the end of his time, the field below was littered with bright green golf balls and a handful of red ones.

The Slytherins in the stands roared their approval. Kurt returned to the ground where Sebastian stood nodding and smirking. The two younger girls were frowning as they left. Rachel didn't return.

"Well, that's a relief," Sebastian said as he began running the tryouts for Beaters. "We'll get you suited in a uniform tomorrow. Rachel's reserve, unfortunately, since those kids sucked, so keep an eye when she's near. Knowing her, she'll use an Unforgivable on you."

"Right," Kurt said. He grinned despite himself. "When's the first practice?"

"Tuesday night. We'll talk more over dinner. Oi, Lancaster! Get moving or you won't be back on my team!"

It was only when Kurt was showered and back in his dormitory that he remembered Blaine. He'd left without a word to Blaine, and even as that same fantasy of Hogsmeade dates and sharing a frothy butterbeer flickered before him, he was glad he had. He wasn't ready to… be what? He was out, had been for years. Being openly gay had never been a problem for him. Not at home with his dad or Carole or Finn, and not here at Hogwarts.

But this was different. This was crossing house lines, breaking thousand year old traditions, maybe even breaking all of his friendships to pieces. It meant being lonely and miserable and even resenting each other if they worked out long enough to date. Because they would hate each other, how couldn't they if all of their friends turned on them for being together?

Leaving without a word had been for the best. They could be romantic in letters, even if Blaine didn't know who he was. It was better that way. But as Kurt lay down on his bed he realized nothing that he wanted with them could happen if he kept them distanced with letters. He sighed and sat up, his stomach tight. So far, Blaine hadn't replied to his last, and maybe he never would. Maybe it was better to let them fade out now rather than later.

Kurt pulled out a scroll of parchment to write his father and Carole about his tryout, and was interrupted by Dave Karofsky poking his head in.

"Your owl's been having a fit in the stairwell," he said as McQueen soared in. "Looks like you've got a letter."

Kurt stomach twisted. The only person who would write to him was Blaine. His dad's reply had come yesterday, which meant—

"Oh, thanks."

Dave left as McQueen settled on his shoulder and dropped the letter in his beak. Kurt watched it roll of his lap and onto his emerald bedspread. Only Blaine rolled his letters up and tied them off. His dad haphazardly folded them, Carole's were in envelopes, and the Daily Prophet was much too big for this.

He took a deep breath and untied the scroll.

_Dear Slytherin Admirer,_

_Wait, that probably sounds accusatory, doesn't it? Sorry! I was just trying to think of a nickname or something based on what I know, and well… I guess that one doesn't work, but that's all I really know about you._

_I don't have any problems with you being in Slytherin—it doesn't matter to me—but I think I understand why you're scared to meet. I've dealt with my fair share of Slytherins from being on the Hufflepuff Quidditch team and most of them—but not you!—aren't very nice. But I don't think my friends would care that you're in Slytherin. They might be surprised, but they'd come around because if I'm happy, then they're happy for me. I hope your friends are like that, but from the way you spoke, I can't help but think they aren't._

_Regardless of it we ever meet—though I hope someday you'll have the courage to—I want to keep writing. To get to know you, but as friends. I mean, I'm flattered that you like me, but I can't set my heart on letters. On maybe only letters. Which doesn't mean I'm going to be running around dating every boy I see, but I think it's best to do this as friends first? Until you're (hopefully) ready to meet and go on a date?_

_I'm sorry, that probably doesn't sound anything like what I'm trying to say. I want to know you, because you're very sweet, but I don't want to set myself on just you if there's no guarantees of this ever, well, being real. If I don't ever get to know your face or name. I'm hoping we can work towards that?_

_Anyway, what do you like to do? Do you like Quidditch? What's your favorite subject? Um, favorite color? Do you have siblings?_

_Those are all really lame questions, aren't they? Oh, well, I just want to know you. Beyond that you're a Slytherin and romantic._

_Sincerely,_

_Blaine_

Kurt set the letter aside when he was finished. Just friends. That was comfortable, safe. Perhaps that was better than being overly romantic with a boy he couldn't manage to tell his name to. At least, not when it was connected with these letters and more than short conversations in class. He stretched out on his bed and read the letter once more, a little prickle sharp in his belly.

Only friends because he didn't have the guts to confess himself to Blaine directly, but it was a start and Blaine—Merlin, was he always so patient and kind? He was willing to wait, to know him before he met him, to give him a chance. That had to mean he'd made a wonderful impression on him, right? That Blaine, despite his hesitations, wanted more if Kurt gave them the chance.

* * *

Kurt wrote back that evening. He answered all of Blaine's questions—sing and listen to my favorite Muggle music, study magic, read fashion magazines, design clothing; yes, my whole family loves Quidditch; History of Magic even though Professor Binns is boring as all get out; Green, but purple is a very close second; a brother my age who goes here, too—and asked a few of his own. He poised the same to Blaine, and asked more about what he did outside of school and Quidditch.

For two weeks they wrote, day after day, letter after letter. Before long, the questions turned to real conversations, sometimes about homework assignments or problems with spells, and other times about their families, coming out, and Blaine's brother's latest spread in  _Wizard of the Robes_ newest issue.

— _those abs are so fake, okay? I know my brother's stomach better than mine own. He's only been strutting around the world with no shirt on since he was thirteen, and those? Airbrushed like the Muggles do. Or some sort of spell. He won't tell me which, but I know I'm right. He keeps sending me pictures in his letters of him flexing like he's the hottest man on the planet. That spot is rightfully claimed by Adam Levine—do you know who he is? He's gorgeous. Much more so than my fake-abs brother._

_Anyway, class is almost over and Sam keeps trying to read this over my shoulder. Can you believe it's been almost two months since you wrote that first time? And, well, I know you haven't mentioned it, but… I was wondering where you stood on meeting? They just posted the first Hogsmeade date this morning for Halloween, and—not that you have to, and I don't want to rush you—I was hoping you might accompany me? On a date, I mean?_

_It's okay if you say no. I'll understand, but I guess I just… want more than letters. More than secretive friendship. I… I want to meet you and hold your hand in Hogsmeade and go to that stupid little poofie chair shop and blush until we can't stop giggling._

_I hope I'll hear from you again. I hope this isn't too much too soon for you._

_\- Blaine_

Kurt stared at the letter as he sat down in his Arithmancy class. A date. With Blaine. The boy he'd been writing to more than he'd ever written to anyone, but that he'd stopped talking to in person. It wasn't as if they had many chances to speak to each other, but then Kurt had been making every effort to avoid him, too. Three lunging paces to get out of sight in the hall, eating meals when he knew Blaine wasn't in the Great Hall, even being late for Quidditch on Sunday mornings so that Blaine had cleared off with the rest of the Hufflepuffs. The only time he really had to see Blaine was in Care of Magical Creatures, and with Santana and Brittany so busy trying to sneak off to snog it was easy to say very little to him.

"You're looking misery," Mercedes Jones said as she took the seat beside him. She was in Gryffindor with his step-brother, Finn, and despite being friends outside of Hogwarts, this was the only class they spoke to each other in. "You've been grinning like you're about to explode for weeks. What's up?"

Kurt pulled his supplies out of his bag and shook his head. "Nothing. Just… it's nothing."

"Mhmm. It's a boy, isn't it?"

"What?  _No!_ "

Mercedes laughed until the bell rang. She opened her book, and leaned towards him. "It  _is_. I know that look on your face. Everyone in our year has that look on their face."

"So? That doesn't mean…" Kurt blushed and scribbled down what was being written on the board.

"Are you going to spill? Or am I going to have to ask Finn?"

"It's… you can keep a secret, right? Like, a really huge secret that absolutely nobody can ever know?"

Mercedes set her quill down and looked at him. "What's going on?"

"There's, um, well, I started writing to this boy. As his secret admirer," Kurt said and Mercedes beamed. "Only he doesn't know who I am."

"He's at Hogwarts? He's not, like, in Morocco or something?"

"No, no, he's… he's in our year. He's… Merlin, Mercedes, he's wonderful and beautiful, only I've been too scared to tell him who I am because—"

"Because of your dumb housemates," Mercedes finished. "Seriously, I know you're supposed to, like, be one of them, but you're more than just a Slytherin. How else could we be friends?" She shrugged. "I mean, I get it. It's the same reason we don't hang out constantly, but if you two like each other, then I say go for it."

"He asked me to Hogsmeade this weekend. For Halloween," Kurt said, and he pulled the letter from his pocket but didn't open it. "I—I'll lose all of them. Maybe even my Quidditch spot. My entire house will—but I want to say yes. I don't know what to do."

"Follow your heart," Mercedes said. "Be a Gryffindor for once in your life, even if you are a Slytherin."

"But—"

"Stop thinking about it, and start doing what you want to," she said. "You're only hurting yourself and him. Besides, Slytherin robes or not, you're just as much of a Gryffindor from what I've seen."

Kurt snorted. "A Gryffindor who's too scared to go out with a boy he likes? Yeah, right."

"What does being afraid have to do with whether or not you're courageous? Or fool-hardy, for that matter. Say yes," Mercedes said. "You march your butt down to Hogsmeade on Saturday morning, and you introduce yourself and kiss him until you're both blushing. And then come find me after and give me  _all_  the details."

Kurt tucked the letter back into his pocket. "I don't know."

"Well, whatever you do, I think it was very brave to write him as a secret admirer. And romantic."

"Depends on how you look at it," Kurt said. He'd done that to avoid the same thing he was still avoiding, not to be brave or romantic. Well, maybe a little romantic. "He's in my next class."

Mercedes grinned as they turned to the next chapter in their books. "You can always tell him yes face to face then."

Kurt swallowed and set his quill down. His hands were shaking. He kept picturing the looks on his friends faces—Santana, Sebastian, Brittany, even Rachel—when they found out he was on a date with Blaine Anderson, a Hufflepuff and their Quidditch enemy.

"Or just write back," Mercedes's gentle voice said. Her hand grabbed his and held them still. "But nobody who really likes you is going to care as long as you're happy."

"I—yeah, right." He sniffled and pulled his hands away. "Thanks. I—his name's—"

"Blaine," Mercedes said and she giggled at the shocked look on Kurt's face. "I've seen you watching him in Defense when Rachel isn't looking. And he  _is_  beautiful. If he wasn't gay, I'd ask him myself."

"You're the best, you know that?"

"I do. Even if we don't eat breakfast together. Now are you going to write him back or what?"

Kurt ripped off a piece of parchment. For a few minutes, he tried to respond to everything Blaine had written, to keep their conversation going as usual. But this was a big deal and it clogged him. Instead, he wrote one word at the end of class before he and Mercedes headed up to the Owlery.

_Yes._


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So this update has taken FOREVER. The inspiration for this story was just not there at all. But-and here's good news number one-I just got back from a vacation with my friends to Universal in Florida where they have Harry Potter parks. So spending a week in Hogsmeade, Diagon Alley, and Hogwarts has done me good for this story. I'm hoping that inspiration sticks for a while, enough to get this story written.
> 
> Which brings me to good news number two: My book is available for pre-order! You can pre-order it at store.interludepress.com or on amazon.com.  [Check here](http://zane-riley.com/post/112529883466/pre-orders-start-tuesday-go-your-own-way) for more details about the book! And for anyone who doesn't know, it is a reimagined version of Go Your Own Way. Very exciting times and I hope whoever reads this new version enjoys it as much as the old!
> 
> On to Owl Post then! Weee!

"What about this one?"

Blaine stumbled through the cracked doorway for the seventh year boys' Hufflepuff dormitory. Elliott and Mike rolled their eyes while the other four boys groaned and threw things at him again. Blaine ducked the first Quaffle and then a badly aimed spell, and hurried over to the space between Mike and Elliott's beds, his arms draped with different sweaters and bow ties.

"You look adorable no matter what," Elliott said as he sat up.

Mike grunted and yanked his curtains open. "Does this really have to happen in here at six in the morning? It's Saturday. I gave us the day off from Quidditch practice to _sleep_ for Hogsmeade. Not for the Blaine Anderson bow tie fashion bonanza. Go back to sleep."

"But I'm meeting my—well, my date's in Hogsmeade with him today and—" Blaine turned to Elliott and held up his arms covered with bow ties and sweaters. "I want to look perfect. But I was going to wear yellow and then I thought I'd wear something green since he's in Slytherin, you know? But then I didn't think they looked right together, so I kept my green jeans on and now—"

Elliott nodded and patted the edge of his bed until Blaine sat. "You look cute no matter what you wear if the rumor mill is anything to go by. Besides, it's chilly out. You'll have your cloak over whatever you wear."

Blaine frowned as Elliott began pulling bow ties off his arms and examining them. "Not once we're inside somewhere. We're meeting at, um, Madame Puddifoot's. The place with the poof chairs and all the cute hearts on the windows."

"So no red then." Elliott yanked anything red off his arms and set them aside. "No pink either. You don't want to blend into the shop."

Blaine nodded as the pile on the bed grew and Mike buried his head under his pillows.

"Here, this sweater will work," Elliott said. He pulled a bright yellow cardigan from Blaine's forearm and held it up to his jeans. "Add a little blue or red to your tie—oh, like this one! There. Perfect."

"I, um, still need a shirt underneath," Blaine said. He gestured to his bare chest, but stood up and let Elliott march him from the room. "Will you—"

"Primary colors," Elliott said. "We're going to make you look like a bold collage of all the house colors."

They entered Blaine's dormitory to more groans and sleepy grunts.

"No, take him back!"

"Yeah, he's been up since dawn we don't want to hear any more about bow ties!"

Wes and David each threw shoes at them and then dived back under their blankets. Sam gave a squawk as one landed on his stomach.

"Bludgers! Why did you let them loose in the dormitory, dude? Ugh!"

Sam rolled over and went back to sleep.

Elliott opened Blaine's wardrobe and shifted through it until he found a suitable shirt. Blaine put it on, then his bow tie and cardigan. His mirror gave a low whistle when he stepped in front of it.

"You're marvelous, kid. Go knock his socks off."

Blaine flushed as Elliott laughed. "Thanks. I'm… thanks."

An hour later, once the rest of the boys were awake, Blaine headed down to breakfast with his scarf, gloves, and cloak. He ran a hand over his neatly styled hair and glanced at the plate of food Sam was knocking against his elbow.

"Eat something."

"What if I puke it up all over him?"

Dani smiled and pierced a tomato on his fork. "Eat, Blaine. You're much better off with this food than anything at Puddifoot's. If you're both smart, you'll switch to the Three Broomsticks for some butterbeer."

"Well, we just…wanted somewhere quieter." Blaine let her stuff the tomato into his mouth and swallowed. "The Three Broomsticks is so crowded and he's still worried about… his friends."

Elliott frowned as he ate. "They don't sound like good friends to me. If they were they'd be happy for him instead of making him so scared he can't even tell you his name."

Blaine nodded a little and began to eat a piece of toast. He'd thought the same thing for weeks now, but hadn't mentioned it after their first group of letters. As he ate he scanned the Slytherin table and wondered. Which boy was it from his list? Three of them were single as far as he knew, but only one of them was present. Dave Karofsky looked well dressed and much more nervous than he usually did.

Blaine swallowed. What if it was him? How was he going to connect the sweet boy from those letters to the same boy who had bullied him for his first three years here? Maybe Dave had changed, maybe he was better now, but those memories would always be there. Blaine shoved his plate away before he'd finished half of it.

"Blaine, you need to—"

"I think I'm going to be sick." He made to stand but changed his mind, his legs straddling the bench. "I can't do this. He's probably—Merlin, what if he's someone who's awful to me? Or someone I don't—not that it matters how he looks, but…"

"Hey, relax. Deep breaths." Dani gave him a hug and took him by the hands. "Come on. We'll all walk you to the shop and wait for him."

"No, he doesn't—he's so scared of us being seen. I can't have a bunch of people with me or he'll be scared off."

Sam shrugged. "We're still walking you there, whether you like it or not. Come on. Let's get there early."

Blaine, Sam, Dani, and Elliott headed into the entrance hall. A small queue of students, mostly third years, had already lined up to have their names checked off on Figgins' long list. Mike and Tina joined them as they waited.

"Oh, I can't wait for your date, Blainey." Tina leaned over and gave him a tight hug and fixed his scarf. "Let's see what you're wearing under your cloak. Oh, that's so cute! You look great!"

"Thanks." Blaine adjusted his bow tie and stuffed his hands into his cloak pockets. "I, um, I'm supposed to meet him at ten. Outside the shop."

They reached the open door of the entrance hall and checked out, then began their long walk down the drive through the winged boar gates and into the village. Blaine couldn't focus on his friends chatter as they walked, he could barely keep his feet from tripping as he scanned the other students milling down to Hogsmeade. Most of them were young, but a group of Slytherins in their year were several paces ahead. Blaine recognized Sebastian, Rachel, and Santana among them, but Kurt Hummel wasn't there.

His heart plummeted a little. He kept hoping it was him. Longing for something that he kept trying to remind himself was never going to happen. After Kurt's successful Quidditch tryout they hadn't spoken more than twice, and not for more than a few seconds.

As they turned down the side road in the village towards Madame Puddifoot's, Blaine watched the Slytherins turn off for the Shrieking Shack and spotted Dave Karofsky lingering a few shops away, apparently examining a collection of quills in the window.

It was him. Why else would he have followed them here? He fit the description Blaine had as well and he had so many reasons to be too afraid to introduce himself to Blaine.

"I guess we'll head back to the Three Broomsticks," Dani said. "Melissa's going to meet me there."

Sam nodded. "I've got to meet Quinn at the joke shop. She's going to help me pick something out for my brother's birthday."

Everyone gave him hugs as they departed until he was standing outside of the shop alone, his scarf tight around his neck as the wind howled down the road, and his pocket watch tight in his fist.

Three more minutes.

Blaine glanced at Dave Karofsky still lingering a few shops down and then sighed in relief when he actually entered instead of heading his way. Not him then. Unless he was so nervous he had to go into another shop before he approached him. Blaine hoped that wasn't the case, even if it was a little endearing.

Blaine swallowed and shut his eyes. If it was Dave, they'd talk. It would be okay no matter who showed up because the boy who had been writing him was sweet and worth the effort, as long as he gave the same effort in return.

"Psst. _Pssst!"_

Blaine opened his eyes and scanned the road. Nobody in sight. He glanced back into the shop to see if his mystery boy was waving him inside, but the only people he saw was a couple of fourth years suctioned together at the mouth.

"Over—I'm just—"

A puddle splashed a few feet away and then a warm, invisible hand brushed his shoulder. Blaine yelped and hit his head on a floating, glowing heart just outside the doorway.

"Sorry! I'm—I mean," the person cleared their throat and suddenly the squeaky, breathless voice was deep and gruff. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. Being invisible does that though, so I should have…"

"Who are you? Are you my—"

"I, um, I've been writing the letters. A-about the amber of your eye and how ridiculous your brother is, and I'm…hi."

Blaine looked all around him and frowned. This was not part of the plan. "Can you, like, take the cloak off? Or spell? Is it a Disillusionment Spell? So we can, like, both see each other?"

"Um, yeah, yeah, just—" The voice slipped into a higher octave again, and Blaine frowned. This person sounded like a girl, but he stopped himself there. Maybe this boy was transgender or something, maybe he wasn't even on Blaine's list because Blaine hadn't realized. But the voice almost sounded familiar when it slipped, like he'd heard it before. It made his stomach leap like he'd swallowed a Chocolate Frog whole.

"I'll take it off, I promise, I just wanted us to get away from here so we can actually, like, see each other and talk. Before we go in, okay? So we don't make a scene if you hate me or something. I-is that okay?"

The same warm hand from before reached out and tentatively squeezed his. Blaine squeezed back, his chest pounding at the sensation. This boy was holding his hand. For the first time, he was truly real and at his side, invisible or not.

"Right, yeah, okay."

They were two steps away from the shop when another voice reached his ears.

"Hey, look! Anderson's so desperate he's waiting to steal someone else's date."

Blaine turned to find the group of Slytherins he'd spotted earlier heading towards him. Almost immediately the warm hand holding his was pulled free.

"No, wait, don't—"

"Ah, look. He's even talking to invisible people." Santana grinned at him as the group of Slytherins stopped in front of him. Rachel Berry, Jesse St. James, Sebastian Smythe, and Santana Lopez. At least that ruled out a few other possibilities.

"I'm not—well, I am but—"

Sebastian grinned slyly at him. "Unless you're waiting for me, Anderson. I wouldn't say no to a few hours flush with your perky ass."

Blaine's face burned, but he kept his eyes peeled for any sign of his mystery boy's invisible footsteps leading him away. The ground looked the same though.

"I'm not interested in you, okay? I'm—just leave me alone. I-I'm waiting for someone."

"Someone wants to _date_ you?"

Blaine tucked his hands into his armpits and went back to standing at the shop door. He kept watching while the Slytherins teased him, but no footprints appeared in the puddles or mud. For five minutes, they stood there and taunted him.

"Nobody wants to date you," Santana said with an air of finality. "I bet you stand here all day by yourself and nobody shows up."

"Yeah, nobody wants to waste time with a dorky Hufflepuff in some stupid bow tie. You look like a toddler."

Rachel and Santana grinned at each other as Sebastian stretched. Jesse laughed and wrapped an arm around Rachel's shoulders.

"Come on. Let's get going already," Jesse said. "Anderson's boring."

"Yeah, that's why he's being stood up."

Laughing, the Slytherins turned and headed back down the road and into the main stretch of village out of sight. Blaine watched them until they disappeared and then scanned the muddy stretch of road around Madame Puddifoot's.

"Hello? Are you still here? They're gone now."

Silence.

Blaine bit his lip.

"Hello?"

He took a few laps around the street, his arms outstretched, feeling for that same hand from ten minutes ago. But he ran into nobody and no voice answered his calls. Blaine returned to the front of the shop and took a seat on a little bench to wait.

His mystery boy would come back. He'd just run off when his house-mates had been there, and considering how they'd just treated Blaine he didn't blame him. They were cruel and this boy had to live with them despite being so kind and sweet.

Blaine checked his bow tie and his sweater, adjusting a button here and a fold of fabric there. His boy would come back. Of course he would. He'd shown up, invisible or not, and that had to mean he was as hopeful as Blaine was.

_"I bet you stand here all day by yourself and nobody shows up."_

He shook himself and sniffled. That wasn't true. Someone had shown up and yet…

Blaine sat for an hour, and then another, until his cheeks were numb from the chilly wind and his bow tie was undone and folded in his lap.

"Blaine?"

His head shot up, his heart thudding with hope at the high and bright voice calling his name. Dani was at his side, her girlfriend a few paces back with Elliott.

"He, um…" Blaine wiped his nose on his cloak and twisted his bow tie in his hands. "He showed up."

"Well, that… that's good, right?" Elliott's hand gripped Blaine's shoulder.

Blaine flinched and pulled away. Only a few hours ago, the boy he'd been dying to meet in person had done the same.

"He—we—a bunch of Slytherins showed up and scared him off. He h-had an invisibility cloak on and as soon as he saw them he r-ran off. Didn't come back."

"Oh, Blaine."

Dani sat down to hug him but Blaine stood up and wiped his nose and eyes again.

"Can we just go back to the castle?"

Dani, Elliott and Melissa exchanged a look before nodding and following him up the sloping drive to the entrance hall. Blaine didn't talk for the walk or dinner or once they were back in the common room. His hand felt weird, some odd mixture of cold and numb and warm that he couldn't explain.

How could he have left him standing there looking so stupid?

"Blaine, do you want to talk about—"

"I'm going to bed." Blaine stood up and brushed off Sam's hands. "I've got a lot of essays to write tomorrow after practice. Night."

"Blaine, if you need—"

He hurried up the stairs and shut the door of his dormitory before Elliott could finish. The room was empty, not even an owl in sight. Blaine slid down against the door and let himself cry for a few minutes, let the rip in his chest ease the new ache filling it.

Stood up. He'd been stood up. Sort of. He couldn't blame his mystery boy for running away from them, but at the same time he was furious at him. Instead of revealing himself and standing at Blaine's side, he'd run off and left him to deal with them on his own. He hadn't even hung around to watch or to come back once they were gone.

Blaine wiped his eyes and cleared his throat. A few minutes of tears, that was all this boy was going to get from him. He stood and unhooked his cloak, draped it over his trunk and began to undo his sweater. As he set his bow tie on his bed, he saw a roll of parchment between the yellow and black blankets, just peeking out from his unmade bed. He'd been too nervous to make it this morning.

A hoot from the window ledge startled him. Blaine looked over and found an unfamiliar barn owl waiting for him. It hooted dolefully and bobbed its head toward the bed.

"A-are you delivering this to me?"

The barn owl hooted once more. It wasn't a school owl that he could tell. No collar or markings to indicate it was school-owned. And almost immediately, Blaine realized the note on his bed was from the same boy who had just run away from him, who had survived one moment of boldness just to run away and leave him on his own the next.

He sat and picked it up, examined the same curly green scrawl with his name across the front.

The barn owl fluttered over and nudged his hand with its head. Something was familiar about him, like he'd seen him with his owner before, but right now Blaine couldn't place it.

"I suppose you're his owl then, are you?"

"Hoot! Ho-hoot!" The barn owl rubbed its head under Blaine's chin and nipped his nose.

"Ouch, okay okay! I'll open it. But I'm still mad at him. He left me standing there like an idiot, okay? Peck his nose off for me."

Another hoot, harsher and louder. Blaine took that as agreement. The barn owl rubbed its head against his chin again and Blaine sighed. At least this boy's owl was sweet, even if his owner was a jerk. He unrolled the scroll of parchment and read:

_Blaine, I'm so sorry. It wasn't my intention to leave you standing there, and I'm sure you're furious. You probably hate me, but I still hope you don't. I can't apologize enough for it. I guess I wasn't ready, not with my house-mates showing up so suddenly like they did._

_If you don't want to write anymore I'll understand. I'll understand if you don't respond and you hate me as well._

_But if you don't… or if you truly want to meet me, I'll be waiting in the dungeons at midnight. The boys' bathroom down the first corridor from the entrance hall. I'll understand if you don't show up after today, but I hope you'll give me this last chance to meet. I want to meet face to face, I truly do. I'm just…a coward. I'm open about my sexuality, but losing all of my friends and being ridiculed constantly by the entire school…I don't think I can do that._

_I'm sorry. I'll be waiting for an hour if you want to meet with me._

_Sincerely,_

_Your Admirer_

Blaine only read the note once before he crumbled it up. He wasn't going to meet him. Not tonight. Not after the day he'd had and certainly not at the risk of being stood up or caught by someone. He was a perfect. It was his job to uphold the rules, not break them for someone who ran away from him.

"I'm not going," he told the owl on his lap. A shrill, angry hoot. "No, tell him not to bother. I'm not breaking my heart twice in the same day for a boy without a name."

Another hoot, sad and dejected this time. The owl nudged his chin with its head and pressed into him as if it was trying to cuddle. Blaine let it, laid back on his pillows and let this boy's owl rub against his chin until it gave up and flew out of the window.

The dormitory door opened a few minutes later.

"Blaine? You okay, man?"

Sam peered into the room and frowned when he saw him stretched out on the bed with tears running down his face.

"Aw, buddy, it's—"

"I just want to be left alone, Sam." Blaine rolled away from him and shut his bed curtains. "Maybe tomorrow. But right now…"

"Okay. If you need anything…"

Sam shut the door and Blaine was alone.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** I return! Life has been its epicly busy self, but I am determined to get back into this one now that my manuscript is in. So, for those who don't remember (and I'm sure half of you don't because I have taken FOREVER. I'M SORRY!) when we last met, Blaine and Kurt had decided to meet in Hogsmeade, face to face for the first time. Yet sadly, poor Blaine was abandoned by his secret admirer when his Slytherin classmates showed up to tease him. When he returned to the castle, Blaine was met with a letter from his secret admirer, which he refused to answer.
> 
> And now, onward-and slightly backward-as we return to Hogsmeade, this time with Kurt...

**Owl Post**

**Chapter 7**

Kurt backed away at the sight of his Slytherin classmates. He shuffled along the side of the buildings, just past the bench beside Madame Puddifoot's. Sebastian, Santana, Rachel, and Jesse. For a moment he thought they'd pass by, but the four of them never missed an opportunity to tease Blaine. Anything that might give them a leg up during Quidditch, that might even distract Blaine during a game or in practices long term, was okay with them.

He listened at a distance while they taunted Blaine. It wasn't easy, and for a moment he almost pulled out his wand and cursed Sebastian, but he couldn't give himself away. The four of them could find him, even with his Invisibility Cloak and then…

No more Quidditch team.

No more friends.

Teasing and taunting every waking second. In the common room, in the halls, at classes, at every meal.

He wouldn't even have Blaine since he hadn't introduced himself properly yet.

Brittany might still talk to him. And Elliott from Transfiguration Club, but the rest…

"Yeah, that's why he's being stood up."

The Slytherins turned away from Blaine and headed towards Kurt. Panicked, Kurt shoved himself back against the building as they passed. He could see Blaine now. Think of something, apologize for all of this mess he'd created and—

"Come on. Let's head back. See if Hummel's still puking. If he's still sick, he's going to the nurse," Sebastian said as they trekked past in the direction of the castle. "As much as I enjoy watching people puke all over the pitch, we've got to get him up to speed on our old plays."

"Then you shouldn't have kicked me off the team!"

Rachel stomped away as Jesse grinned and shrugged at the other two. "My drama queen returns," Jesse said. "And it was the best decision. I love her, but Kurt's incredible. He deserves the chance until she… well." He hurried after her.

Kurt watched them for a moment, took another glance back at Blaine and bolted. Even as he ran he felt the guilt weighing him down as he returned to the castle. He'd left Blaine standing there all alone. Left him outside of Madame Puddifoot's just like his friends had said.

He was awful, wretched. The worst, most pathetic secret admirer on the planet. He should go back. Forget about his friends and decide not to break Blaine's heart. Instead he found himself outside the common room, with his invisibility cloak tucked under his robes.

Had he really sunk this low? What would his dad say? Or Finn? Or his own mother if she were alive? Carole would be furious with him.

Kurt said the password at the stone wall just as Sebastian and Santana came down the corridor. They spotted him at once.

"You still look terrible, Hummel," Sebastian said. He took Kurt's face by his chin and examined him. "That's it. We're taking you to the Hospital Wing."

"Just left there," Kurt said. He yanked himself away from Sebastian and followed them into the common room. "She gave me a potion for my stomach. Told me to get some rest. Later."

Kurt headed down the spiral staircase, past the tall, mullioned windows to the door for sixth years. Their dormitory was empty when he entered. After pacing the room and cringing as he remembered how he'd left Blaine standing there, alone, Kurt pulled out a roll of parchment and sat in the window to write to him, perhaps for the last time.

He finished while the rest of his house was away at dinner. Through the deserted common room and then up the grand staircase to the Owlery. Kurt called McQueen down to him and gave him the scroll of parchment.

"Take this directly to Blaine this time, okay? He's—Merlin, I bet he hates me. He doesn't even know me and—"

The Owlery door snapped shut. A seventh year Hufflepuff had been hidden behind it, and Kurt, so anxious to get to McQueen to send his letter to Blaine, hadn't noticed him. He was tall with dark hair. Kurt had seen him with Blaine, recognized him from the Hufflepuff Quidditch team. Mike Chang.

"I had a feeling it was you," he said.

"I—well, you're just—I don't know what you're talking about."

Mike took a seat on the window sill. "Don't worry, I won't tell him. Well, I might. You hurt him a lot today, running off like that."

"I still don't know what you're talking about." Kurt headed toward a different window and let McQueen fly out into the dusk. "There's nothing to tell."

"Uh huh. Don't try to play dumb, Hummel. You've been writing to Blaine. You like one of my best friends and tonight, you broke his heart because you're a coward."

"You think I don't know that? I didn't—I showed up and then… forget it. He'd never like me anyway. I just—whatever."

Mike held the door open, but Kurt didn't leave.

"I'm friends with your brother, you know. Finn says you can be a lot sometimes, but that you're a great guy when you're just being yourself. I think Blaine would like the boy Finn always talks about. If you do this thing right."

Mike left. Kurt sat on the window ledge and followed McQueen's silhouette as he turned toward the sun and then curved around North Tower and out of sight. What did Mike know? After today, this was never going to work, but he'd still wait for Blaine tonight. He wanted to apologize in person, if nothing else.

Kurt didn't return to the Slytherin common room. He had his prefect duties from eight to eleven, and then pulled on his invisibility cloak and took his time heading to the boys' bathroom in the first corridor of the dungeons. He arrived early and took a seat in the window, still under his cloak. The last time he'd been in here, he'd been opening Blaine's first reply to him. In the distance, a clock struck midnight. Kurt perked up.

As the minutes ticked by, Kurt lowered his cloak and watched the door. Ten minutes, then twenty. At forty past the hour, Kurt was ready to pack up and go when the door creaked open.

"Blaine, I can't—"

Mrs. Norris peered around the door at him. Her lamplike eyes flickered around the room until she spotted him. With a hiss she was gone, and a few seconds later Kurt heard footsteps. He yanked his cloak over his head and tucked himself under one of the sinks. Filch barged in, with Mrs. Norris on his heels.

"Someone's in here, my sweet."

The pair checked the entire room from top to bottom, lifted toilet lids and checked the connected mop closet. As they neared the sink an enormous bang echoed from the hallway. They raced out.

"Peeves, you'll be out of here this time!"

Kurt stood up and slid his cloak off his head. Three minutes until one. Blaine wasn't coming. He'd ruined everything for good. Now he'd never stand a chance with Blaine, because even if he tried as himself, this would always be between them.

* * *

For the next week, Kurt didn't contact Blaine and Blaine didn't contact them. Everything seemed hopeless and over so suddenly, but it was his own fault. Blaine looked miserable every time Kurt spotted him in class or down a crowded corridor, and the other Slytherins were teasing him worse than ever. The entire school knew that Blaine had been stood up, though how the rumor had spread so fast, and remained so true, was beyond Kurt.

The following weekend, Hufflepuff played Ravenclaw for the first Quidditch match of the season. Kurt went to watch on his own as Blaine swooped and dived between the other players and caught the snitch ten minutes into the match. It was the fastest catch Kurt had ever seen, and if anything it looked as those heartache made Blaine play better. At the end of the match, Kurt lingered near the changing rooms to wait for Blaine's teammates to clear off.

"Great catch, Blaine! Party in the common room, okay? And you better be there instead of moping. Forget that jackass. He's not worth it."

"Yeah, I know. I'm not dealing with him anymore."

The Hufflepuff Beaters sped out past Kurt, shouting and cheering as they headed toward the castle. Kurt parted the curtains and entered.

"That was some catch earlier."

Blaine glanced up and while a small smile pulled at his mouth his eyes remained dull. "Thanks. It was luck more than anything. The sun wasn't too bad today."

Kurt nodded and took a seat on the bench while Blaine pulled on his normal robes. "I—are you okay? I mean, I'm sorry I haven't been talking to you and—but are—"

Blaine gave him an odd look as he fixed his robe sleeves. "Does _everyone_ know? Merlin, just don't—I'm fine. He's a jerk and that's—whatever, okay? And we're—I mean, I get it. We aren't exactly friends, Kurt, even if we've been friendly to each other."

Kurt nodded once more as Blaine shut his locker. It was strange to see him so disinterested, not just in a conversation with him but with almost everything else. And it was his fault. He'd left Blaine standing there all alone. He'd abandoned him to deal with what he couldn't. Part of him yearned to wrench his mouth open and spill everything. To confess and see if anything could be done to fix what he'd messed up. Somehow simple, sweet letters had turned into an aching knot in his chest.

"I-I want to be friends. With you, I mean. It's just difficult with our houses, you know? Anything that crosses house lines causes such an uproar."

Blaine snorted. "Tell me about it. I didn't even get that guy's name or see his _face_ and it's all anyone is talking about. I just—why? I don't get it. Why even bother writing if he was so scared of what the other Slytherins would think? I mean, do you get it? Are your friends like that too? I wouldn't call them friends if they'd ridicule and dump me just because I dated a boy I liked. Who _cares_ what this house crest says or what color it is."

Blaine plucked at the black and yellow patch sown into his robes and traced the little badger in the center. He shook his head and shouldered his broomstick.

"It doesn't matter now, I guess. Listen, I've got to get back to the common room for the party, but—"

"Do you want to get together to work on homework tomorrow?"

The words left Kurt's mouth before he could think more of it. Blaine startled a little and watched him curiously.

"Uh, yeah, sure. That'd—I've still got to finish all three for Monday, but—why? You've never really… I don't know."

Kurt swallowed. "Well, I want us to be friends. Is that a good enough reason? Besides, I'm sure you're as sick of trying to study with your friends all sucking face around you as I am."

"I—yeah, okay. The library, say after lunch?"

Kurt nodded and smiled a little as Blaine left. Maybe it wasn't much, but Blaine seemed a little happier than he had minutes ago. Yet his own actions still hung with him as Kurt returned to the castle for a small lunch. What he'd done was always going to hold him back around Blaine. He'd ran off and was keeping all of this from him. At some point, he'd have to tell him. Some moment would have to be worthwhile enough for him to be brave.

* * *

"You seem happier."

Blaine slid over to make room for Mike on the crammed couch in the Hufflepuff common room. It was evening now, and the party was beginning to slow down as groups trickled off to the great hall for dinner. The Quidditch team and Sam, Dani, and Elliott remained behind to start the clean up.

"I'm fine," Blaine said. "Same as always."

"No, you haven't been your same as always since that guy left you in Hogsmeade. You've been dead depressed and… you keep smiling. Like you've got a secret. See! You're doing it right now."

"I am not!"

Mike pinched his cheek as Blaine tried to cover his mouth. Maybe he was grinning like his entire life had just changed, but in some ways it had. Kurt wanted to be his friend. He wanted to get together with him. And sure it was only for school work, but it was something. The start of something special if he was lucky. Forget his mystery boy and all the drama that had come from something simple and sweet. His admirer had certainly hurt him, but he'd pushed too much to meet. Either way it was over and done with and that was that.

"Sam, isn't Blaine smiling like a goof?"

The rest of the group glanced up from their clean up. Dani rolled her eyes.

"Leave him be, Mike. He won us that game earlier, so he gets a week free from all the teasing you lot get on him about."

Elliott agreed. "Maybe he's found a real date. You should start asking some guys honestly. Nobody is going to say no to you."

"I—no, they'd—we're just getting together to study, that's all."

A loud chorus of "aw" and snickers filled the common room. Mike, however, frowned at him.

"Who's the guy?"

"He's just a classmate. A… well, we're sort of been friends a bit this year. We've got seven classes together and since they're all down-sized now that it's N.E.W.T. level we see a lot of each other."

As the rest of his friends made kissy noises at him, Mike grinned at him.

"That's great. Really. I was worried you were going to pine over that guy forever."

Blaine shook his head but even as his curls swayed against his forehead, a knot kinked in his stomach. He'd ignored that boy—whoever he was—for a week now. Part of him felt guilty for it—his admirer was terrified of his friends' reactions and perhaps he had a right to be. Blaine didn't want to imagine what it might be like if his own friends weren't happy for _him_ having an admirer from Slytherin. How miserable might it be to have to live with people who mocked you daily? His admirer had been wrong and cowardly, but he was human too.

"Do we really have to clean all over this up right now?" Sam dropped onto a chair and made a big show of acting weak. "I'm starving and everyone's just going to party again when they get back from dinner."

The team agreed, and Dani, despite how helpful she usually was, dropped her trash bag and ducked through the round door and into the corridor.

"We don't want to make the house elves clean up this mess tonight," Elliott said, even as the team made a mad dash after Dani. "They have enough to do without us adding to their chores."

Blaine's stomach rumbled like an earthquake. "I'm going to dinner."

"But—"

Mike grabbed Elliott's arm and hauled him out into the corridor. "We'll finish later. The whole house will probably help then. They're always good about it. Let's eat before dinner's over."

Dinner was a long affair that evening. The team was surrounded by congratulations from the rest of their house, along with several groups of Gryffindors who stopped by to compliment them, particularly the speed of Blaine's catch. Blaine ate through third helpings of Sheppard's Pie before he was full and returned to the common room with the rest of his house. The party continued for a little while, but it was much more mellow and after another hour turned into a cleaning party instead. Hufflepuff house always made a point to clean the common room together after a victory. And usually they shooed the team off to bed instead of letting them help.

"No, we've got it. Go. Get some rest."

The boys were shunted up the stairs in a group and while most of them went willingly, Mike and Blaine lingered on the stairs.

"Are you sure we can't—"

"Go!"

"Good night!"

"Great catch, Blaine! Now go catch some shut eye!"

Mike shrugged at him and led the way. Blaine turned into his dormitory and shut the door behind him. Wes was already changed and climbing into bed. The other three were still downstairs cleaning.

"I always feel bad when they don't let us help," Blaine said as he grabbed his pajamas and pulled his robes off. "We're the reason they had a party at all and—"

"Enjoy it," Wes said, his sleepy voice floating through his curtains. "Just once, don't fuss about not being a team players. Night."

Blaine changed and got into bed too. He stared at the yellow canopy overhead, his skin prickling and his head buzzing. As always after a game day, he was wide awake and ready for more action. This time last week he'd been curled up under his blankets and tearful. His admirer had sent that last letter, trying to explain and apologize and yet…

It was foolish to contact that boy again. To even start a conversation up after all of this. But Blaine couldn't bring himself to not end on nicer terms. He sat up and found a quill and parchment on his night-stand and went back down to the common room to write his admirer one final letter.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/n:** Another long wait, sorry. Don't ever fall off the writing wagon, friends. It's nearly impossible to get back into the habit.
> 
> I'm not sure when the next chapter will be up, but I'm going to do my best to aim for two weeks. It's like pulling teeth right now, but we're moving along. And I think, despite the wait, that this chapter will be worthwhile.
> 
> Enjoy!

Kurt woke early on Sunday to the gurgle of a group of merpeople outside his window. He couldn't tell the time based on the water pressing in against the glass or the schools of fish going past, but that was typical. Down in the Slytherin dungeons everything was rather dreary, and despite the lights outside the windows they were too deep in the lake for sunlight.

One particularly gruff looking merman swam by, shrieking in his eerie language as several grindylows gave chase.

Across the long room, Sebastian groaned.

"Tell him to shove off, Hummel, unless he's got an epic cock pressed against that glass."

Kurt ignored him and shut the window-side curtains around his four-poster. Most nights he left that side open—had since his first year. Six years ago, as he'd climbed into his silky green bed, he'd discovered he had the best view in the room. While the other boys' beds were all in a row to his left, his right was a large bay window with a beautiful, hazy green view of the lake. The other boys' had grown tired of the constant night light, but for Kurt it was a reminder of the street lights that filtered in through the curtains of his room at home.

He dug his watch out of the robes he'd left draped over the foot of his bed and checked the time. Five in the morning. The only ones awake right now would be the house elves and the Hufflepuff Quidditch team. Well, maybe. After yesterday's victory they might have the morning off. Kurt hoped Blaine did. Then he could rest before they met up later.

A small grin lit up his face for a moment. Blaine was his friend. They were going to be friends and study together and then—

And then it would be over as quickly as it had begun. Kurt sat up and pulled his robe over his shoulders and arms. He should tell Blaine. Tell him that he'd been the one writing and that he'd abandoned him in that muddy, frigid street in Hogsmeade. All because he was too afraid of his friends' reaction. Too much of a coward just like the rest of his house.

"SCREEEUUUUGHH!"

The merman was back. Kurt peered through his curtains at him as Sebastian hurled something at the window.

"Shut up, you stupid fish!"

The other boys continued to snore, Brett loudly, the others softly. Kurt climbed out of bed and got dressed. The sooner he got up, the sooner his day could begin.

"Just put a charm on the window again," Kurt said as he pulled his warmest sweater from his wardrobe. "Yours always last longer."

"Because he pisses me _off_."

Sebastian appeared, his lips pulled back in a snarl and his wand in hand. He took aim at the window as Kurt grabbed his cloak and bag. The merman sped away at the sight of the wand, but Sebastian cast his usual spell on the window anyway.

"That'll last until we get back from break in January," Kurt said. "Get back to bed."

Sebastian flopped down on his bed and kicked his way under his blankets. But he didn't shut his curtains.

"Where are you going?"

"Got work to do."

"It's, like, dawn," Sebastian said. He yawned and glanced at his clock on the night-stand. "Merlin, Hummel, it's Sunday. Can't you get up at eleven with everyone else?"

"Blame your mer-boyfriend. See you later."

Kurt headed up the spiral stairs into the common room and decided to head up for a very early breakfast. The halls and banisters were lined with the usual never-melting icicles and garland for Christmas. Break was only a week away. Kurt wasn't staying this year, but, as always, he wished he was. Hogwarts was beautiful at Christmas time. He'd only stayed once during his third year, but he'd loved the two short weeks spent roaming the castle and the grounds.

The Great Hall was empty when he arrived. Kurt took a seat at the empty Slytherin table but no food appeared. He tried to request some to his plate, but after a few minutes, gave up. The kitchens then. Finn had discovered them the same year he'd hit his real growth spurt and their parents had gotten married.

He went down the stairs to the left of the grand staircase and tried to recall Finn's directions from a Transfiguration class long forgotten.

" _You just, like, tickle this pear and it_ giggles _, Kurt. Like—"_

_"Hudson, Hummel, pay attention."_

_Kurt stomped on Finn's foot and went back to transfiguring his rabbits into slippers, but Finn wouldn't shut up. His rabbits had already hopped away toward the door and Finn couldn't care less. His eyes were bright with delight._

_"It's down that weird staircase next to the big one in the entrance—"_

_"Hudson, ten points from Gryffindor. Move to this desk with Mercedes, and chase down your rabbits, for Merlin's sake!"_

Kurt chuckled to himself as he reached the basement passage. He'd expected more chilly, dreary dungeons like the stairs that led to his common room, but this one was well lit and lined with portraits of every type of food imaginable.

As he walked, Kurt admired each one. A roast pork surrounded by goblins; a tray of what looked like cheeses and fruits; several bottles of various wizard beverages—butterbeer, Fire Whiskey, Fishy Green Ale. He was so intrigued that he didn't realized someone else was in the corridor until he ran right into them.

"Umph!"

Kurt fell flat on his backside, his bag thumping down beside him. He looked up to snap at the person and found Blaine staring down at him, bleary eyed and tousle-haired.

"Sorry, Kurt. I tried to-o-o-o-o—" Blaine let out a huge yawn and helped Kurt to his feet. "Was too busy yawning to get your attention. Sorry. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. I—it's a bit early to be up," he said eyeing Blaine's rumpled appearance and tired eyes. "Chang isn't forcing you lot to practice, is he?"

"Nah, got a letter to mail. Figured I'd get up before they could—I like it early, even if I'm tired. It's quieter. I get to spend some time with Queen in the Owlery, have a nice, quiet breakfast."

Kurt shouldered his bag. "Good luck with that. Great Hall's still empty. I was coming down here to the kitchens to get something."

"The kitchens?"

"Isn't that why you're down here?"

Blaine shook his head and Kurt stared past him, noticing for the first time the large circle of wood at the end of the corridor. It looked like the lid of a troll-sized barrel, but it could easily be a common room entrance. Was the Hufflepuff common room down here? Judging by Blaine's half-asleep expression it must be. He couldn't have made it very far like this.

"No, um, my—the dormitory—Hufflepuff is down here. I should go—"

"Do you want to get breakfast? Together, I mean." Kurt flushed and stared at his shoes. "We could eat and then sneak some food up to our owls or something. If you want I mean—you don't—"

"That'd be great."

Kurt jumped as Blaine's hand reached out and squeezed his. He watched their fingers lace together, met Blaine's eyes, and tried to smile just as brightly. It wasn't easy when his entire body felt queasy. From guilt and butterflies, Kurt figured it was a mixture of the two. How could he keep this charade going any longer when Blaine trusted him so readily?

"So where are the kitchens then? Sam knows, but he's always refused to tell me."

"Um, well, I'm going on three year old directions from my step-brother," Kurt admitted. "He said something about tickling a pear?"

Blaine smiled widely. "The fruit bowl painting. Over here."

Blaine led him down the corridor to a painting of several oranges, apples, a pineapple, and a pear nestled together in a large bowl. Unlike the majority of the paintings in the upper levels of the castle this one—along with the entire corridor—didn't move.

"The pear, you said?"

"Yeah."

Blaine reached out and scratched his finger against the only pear in the painting. For a second, nothing happened, but then the pear wiggled, let out an unmistakable giggle, and turned into a door knob.

"After you," Blaine said.

Kurt pulled the door open and led the way. Immediately a dozen house elves were around their knees, several trays being passed over their heads until they reach Kurt and Blaine.

"Good morning, sirs!" squeaked a young elf by Kurt's left knee. "We heard you ordering, but tis too early to serve the hall!"

"Morning," Blaine said as he accepted the first of three trays.

Kurt took the second and his stomach grumbled. Fried eggs, toast, a platter of sausages, tomatoes, marmalade… Blaine took a seat where another group of house elves directed him, Kurt following amongst the bobbing heads of the house elves. They both began to eat, with several other trays joining the first two.

"Sam always likes to make a fuss about how hard it is to get food from the kitchens but—wow thanks. That's all we need. This is more than enough _and_ its delicious. Thank you so much, all of you."

The elves beamed and bowed. Kurt nodded at them too, but he watched the excitement of Blaine's praise light up their faces. His father, despite being a squib, had spent a number of years working to give house elves better living conditions and rights. Kurt had never even seen one up close until now. They were a lot smaller than he'd imagined—very thin and almost fragile looking, but just as eager to please as everyone had always described them.

"I always forget Hogwarts has so many house elves," Kurt said as Blaine carefully cut his sausages into smaller bites. "My dad says they've got the best home of any house elves, but they should all still get paid for their work."

Blaine nodded, pausing to stare around at them all. Most of them were still hard at work cooking, but the rest were cleaning the four long tables that they must have used to transport food to the Great Hall. As the first dishes went upstairs, Kurt frowned.

"My brother thinks they're funny," Blaine admitted. "He has two, but they're more like bag handlers than for the usual household chores. Mom always lectures him about it, but I figure they have it better with him than say with Smythe's family."

Kurt's frown deepened. "Sebastian's never said he has any."

"He does," Blaine said. "A family that old and rich always does. Besides, his dad works for my mom. Says he's always banging on about how useless their house elves are getting in their old age."

"But _you_ don't have any?"

Blaine shook his head. "No. I mean, my mom's parents did, but once they died and Mom had control of the estate, she refused to have any. Said it's not right, even if they're willing, to enslave another creature."

"Good. That's—my dad was involved in a movement for their rights a long time ago," Kurt said. "I imagine he probably still is. He used to say he understood them better than wizards, in a way, being a squib and all. He's misplaced and taken advantage of by most of us too. Not given the same standing with the ministry or able to run for positions on committees."

"That's ridiculous. We're all part of the same world, we should all be equal and have a say. But he makes one hell of a broom," Blaine said with a smile. "Mom refuses to buy anywhere else now."

"Is that why you're still riding that old Firebolt 620?"

Blaine laughed, a squeaky, squinty-eyed little laugh. "No. That's just—my old favorite. Custom made. Mom's been driving me mad about getting a new one. I mean, I _did_ grow a lot since last year, so I'm definitely in the market for a new one. Maybe over break I can stop by and you can, um, show me the best models?"

Maybe it was his imagination, but Blaine's cheeks turned pink at his words. Perhaps he'd taken the same meaning from that sentence as Kurt had.

Face warm, Kurt nodded as Blaine's hand tentatively reached across the table for his once more. As their fingers brushed a rush of calmness settled in Kurt's stomach. This was safe—this was _right._ "Yeah, sure. That'd be—I mean, Dad knows the specs better and the quality, but I've ridden them all so—"

Blaine's smile was hesitantly bright for a moment. "So, it's a date?"

Kurt nodded again, even has his stomach tumbled and his throat tightened. Blaine was—probably—asking him out. Kind of. Kurt wasn't sure if he truly was or not, but he did know one important thing: He was still lying to Blaine.

Or not being forthright with certain truths. That wasn't the same thing, right? Lying meant Blaine would ask him directly and he hadn't. But still…

As they finished and headed up to the Owlery and then the library together, now discussing their Charms assignment and their favorite Muggle musicians. Kurt couldn't help but wonder if it was better to tell Blaine the truth now or to wait until they knew each other better. Or to never say anything. It could be a fleeting comment years from now, perhaps if they got married and became the typical old married couple. He could just mention it in passing then, a silly moment from the past—a pang that would have healed plenty by then.

Yet he couldn't do that to Blaine. Couldn't live with himself without being honest at some point. But his moment never came that morning. Every time he focused enough to start working the words from his throat, Blaine asked him something else—whether homework related or about Quidditch. By late afternoon, they had packed up their books and were in the corridor outside of the empty library.

Blaine paused, one hand messing with the strap of his bag. "I'll see you in class?"

Blaine was still smiling. He never seemed to stop. All morning and afternoon his grin had been a blinding beacon that kept Kurt's stomach in pleasant knots. More than once their hands had brushed and their feet had caught under the table, but neither of them had been bold enough to do anything more. It was flirting—Kurt was sure of that now—but he couldn't bring himself to go any further.

"Yeah, of course. And at Dad's shop. Over break, I mean."

Blaine nodded, his eyes bright and so unblinking that it was almost unnerving. He seemed to be steeling himself for something, and just as Kurt was ready to say goodbye and head to dinner, Blaine leaned in and kissed him.

Their kiss was firm and dry. Kurt had a moment to inhale against Blaine's cheek—let his raspberry and spearmint scent fill his head—before it was over. Blaine was bright red as he took a step back.

"Well, see you."

And he hurried off. Kurt watched until he was out of sight, almost running the length of the corridor. He took a heavy seat on the nearest window ledge.

His first kiss. His _only_ kiss. Blaine had kissed him—he _liked_ him and—

Kurt was lying to him. Keeping something so important and harsh he couldn't allow the wonderful tingle in his lips to last. He had to tell him. If he didn't he'd destroy himself instead of the little bud of friendship they'd already made.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Better late than never, right? Chapter 9 is here, and after this one... well, time for the roller coaster ride. Still not sure on the time frame of updates, but I'll do my best to keep moving forward.
> 
> Enjoy!

"Blaine. Love, wake up. Come on, honey, wake up."

"Mmhmmph."

"No rolling over. It's Christmas Eve, and that means—"

Blaine bolted upright in his bed. "Shopping?"

His mother grinned at him from beside his bed. "Yes, same thing every year. Get dressed. Shops open at seven."

His mother brushed his hair off his forehead, kissed it, and left. Blaine glanced around his bedroom as he pushed his blankets off himself. It was chilly. The sun wasn't even up yet, but the sky outside his room was turning from inky black to a hazy purple. Everything was neat and orderly from his wardrobe to his bookcases and his Hogwarts trunk at the foot of his bed.

Blaine dressed quickly and hurried down to breakfast. The sky was a little lighter from the kitchen window and his mother was dressed and ready.

"Here, some eggs and toast."

He took a seat at the table with her and dug in. "So where are we going this year? Oh, can we do New York City? That was so much fun and—"

"Sorry, London's on the agenda this year," Marcia said. "We're got a new broomstick to buy for my beautiful baby boy."

Marcia leaned over and pecked his cheek and Blaine scrunched his face up. She was a tall woman, just shy of Blaine's current height, with a sharp jaw line and dark curls like her son's.

"Aw, Mama, I'm sixteen."

"But you'll always be my littlest baby. Hurry up. The shops await and we've got so much more than a broomstick to buy. I've already put in the order with Mr. Hummel and—"

"W-we're going to Kurt's dad's shop?"

Blaine dropped eggs all over his lap and choked on the ones in his mouth. Marcia perked up at his reaction.

"Oh, Kurt? Burt's son? Oh, my baby's got a crush?"

"No! No, we're—Kurt's just a friend."

Marcia smiled gently as she finished her toast. She didn't say anything else, but really, she didn't have to. Blaine had watched her give Cooper that look a hundred times on his visits home when he'd been at Hogwarts.

"Yes, we'll be stopping by to visit your friend. This afternoon, I expect. We've got a few new outfits to purchase and music store stop in Muggle London. That's your father's gift. You know how my music man is."

"Ma—"

"Oh, hush, you're my music man, too." She smiled and fixed a curl hanging down toward his eyebrows. "A haircut might be in order too. Unless you're growing it out again."

"But Dad bought me a new guitar last year," Blaine said. He scooped up his last piece of toast and grabbed his cloak from the hook by the door. "I mean, I love it too, but—"

"Not a guitar. You'll see. He made it himself, besides the paint and strings. So haircut?"

Blaine nodded as the same rebel curl dipped back into his vision. It wasn't that long compared to how he'd worn it last year, but it was much longer than when he'd left for school in September.

Marcia grabbed her own cloak and scarf. She handed Blaine his—black and yellow, from his Hogwarts clothing—and hooked her arm through his. "We'll pop into the Leaky Cauldron and hit the streets of Muggle London first."

"Okay."

They stepped onto the back steps, and Blaine had a brief glimpse of Godric's Hollow at sunrise before it disappeared into a swirl of sound and color. Blaine's feet stumbled on the top step of the Leaky Cauldron as they reappeared. Marcia caught him by the arm and steadied him.

"Ready, love?"

"For shopping with you? Always."

They spent all morning wandering the streets of London and hopping off and on the Underground. Blaine got his haircut first. They bought bow ties and dresses, new books of romance and adventures, and a new laptop for Blaine, though he knew he'd rarely use it until the summer. His parents had always made sure he was well-versed in the Muggle world. His father had been not so secretly hoping he'd follow a path toward music and performance beyond Hogwarts. Blaine didn't expect he would though. Quidditch seemed like an ideal career, at least for a little while.

As they turned to head for Diagon Alley at midday, Marcia led him to one final stop before they left the Muggle world. A small music shop was set on the corner of the same street as the Leaky Cauldron. Marcia headed right to the counter and the woman working recognized her immediately.

"Oh, hello Marcia, finally here to pick up. This must be Blaine!"

She smiled at Blaine and offered her hand to shake. Blaine took it and a moment later a violin case was set in his arms. Marcia thanked the woman and paid as Blaine popped it open. The violin was beautiful. A warm cherry, the strings freshly tuned, the bow exquisite in design. Blaine traced a delicate finger over it as Marcia led him back to the street.

"Well? I know it's a day early, but they aren't open tomorrow and I just know Dad will want to play with you this evening after dinner."

"I-it's beautiful. I can't believe—this is too much. And then a broom—Mama, this is more than—"

"Now, now. You love Quidditch as dearly as music. And have just as much talent, if not more. Can't we both buy your affections by capitalizing on your wonderful talents?"

"I love this, I do, but—Mama, I don't need all of this. I have so much already and—"

"And you've outgrown your broom and your old violin, honey. We can afford to buy both, so we are."

"I—thank you. Really. This is too much."

"Come. Time for lunch and then magic!"

Marcia grinned as she led the way and Blaine couldn't help but laugh at his mother's enthusiasm. She always treated Diagon Alley like an adventure. They ate lunch at the Leaky Cauldron, and Blaine ran into a few friends as they made their rounds to all the shops. By early afternoon, when Blaine could think of little else except seeing Kurt, Marcia bought them ice cream at Florean Fortescue's and made him sit.

"You've had moony eyes ever since I mentioned where we were going this morning," Marcia said. "So you and Kurt, you've never spoken of him before now."

"Well, we've never really—we're N.E.W.T. students now. Everyone's got different schedules and Kurt's in almost all of my classes. He even tried out for the Slytherin Quidditch team."

"Oh, a rivalry. Sounds like a wonderful little love story you two are cooking up."

"Mama!"

"Aw, you're blushing, honey." Marcia laughed as Blaine ducked his head. "Don't be so shy. He's a lovely boy, the way Burt speaks of him. Come on, let's get moving before they close shop and you ruin Christmas by mooning over him until you go back to school."

"But—I'm not—"

Marcia led him away, just as she had all day. Blaine's face filled with warmth as the shop came into sight. Hummel's Quidditch Supplies. An array of bludgers and quaffles lined the front window, along with the latest in their line of broomsticks. Would Kurt be working? Surely he must. It was Christmas Eve, one of the busiest days of the year.

He glanced in through the window and just had time to spot Kurt's coiffed hair before his mother dragged him inside. The last time he'd seen Kurt, he'd kiss him. Kissed him and then booked it down the corridor.

"Hello, Hummels!"

Marcia swooped in with all her usual grace and joy. Blaine followed in her wake. Kurt looked up and smiled—a pretend strained one, for the customers—and then he spotted Blaine. His little smile blossomed into an enormous grin that lit up his face.

"Blaine! I didn't expect to see you until after the holidays."

"Oh, well, Mama decided to stop by before Christmas. For my broomstick."

Blaine flushed as he caught his mother's eyes. Part of him had hoped she'd never get to give him that same teasing look she'd reserve solely for Cooper's teenage years. But now, with Kurt right in front of him, he was almost glad. They'd kissed. Kurt must like him—he was blushing too—but they hadn't spoken since the library.

"Is your father here, Kurt?"

"He's in the back. Hold on—Dad! Dad, Mrs. Anderson's here for her order!"

Burt Hummel lumbered out from a door behind the counter. He didn't wear robes like every other shop owner in Diagon Alley, but he had a wizard's hat and a tool belt. Blaine smiled at him as he greeted Marcia.

"Marcia, it's been a while. I've got it just here in the back and—well, well, the youngest Anderson. Look at you, Blaine. Must have grown a foot since I saw you last. No wonder you're in need of a new broomstick."

"Hello, sir."

"Good to see you, kid. Kurt, go flip the door sign. We're pretty much done for the day anyway. Marcia, right back here…"

Blaine planted himself at the counter as Kurt hurried to the shop door. Marcia winked at Blaine before following Burt into the backroom. Kurt flipped over the open sign and turned back to Blaine. He was biting his lip.

"So, having a good holiday so far?"

"Oh, yeah, it's been…relaxing. Can't say I miss the workload we're getting this year."

Kurt nodded and took a long walk around Blaine until he was behind the counter. Was he avoiding Blaine? Or scared? He was more nervous than Blaine had ever seen him.

"Have you finished that Charms essay for Professor Pillsbury? I can't keep any of the forms and implementations straight. Charming Gobstones was so much easier than Wizard's chess sets. All of mine keep speaking in Gaelic."

Blaine laughed. "I can't get mine to just slid across the board. They all hop or dance to the next space. It's a nightmare. I get the theory, but in practice… I'm no charmer. Not by a long shot."

"You're very charming."

They both blushed. Blaine ducked his head.

Kurt swallowed and busied himself with the bludger that was resting on the counter. It was clearly inactive, or at least hadn't been charmed yet. As Kurt worked, Blaine watched him. He was unlike himself. His teeth gritted, his shoulders tense.

"Are you okay?"

Kurt jerked his head and glanced up for only a second.

"Because you're only acting like your terrified of me. Is this about when I k—"

"No! I mean, I've got to get this gone and, um… it was nice. When you—when we—"

Marcia's heels clicked loudly on the floor. "Thank you so much, Burt. This really is lovely. I can't wait for him to try it out—"

"Wait, I forgot the certificate. It's just in the desk."

Blaine glanced at the door to the backroom and then at Kurt. He should ask him. They'd kissed after all, and Kurt had agreed it was nice, so—

"Do you want to get ice cream? O-or dinner? Maybe?"

"I—Dad needs me at the shop, but—I mean—"

Marcia and Burt reappeared. As Burt rung up the order, Marcia called Blaine over to examine his new broomstick. It was wonderful, of course. Everything the Hummels made was, but he couldn't bring himself to say much or smile too wide. Marcia noticed, and Burt frowned at him over the counter.

"Color not your liking? I can change it to black or a lighter brown."

"No, no. It's perfect. It's really—great. Thank you. Really."

Blaine watched Kurt for a moment and missed the look Burt and Marcia exchanged.

"Well, Happy Christmas, kid. You too Marcia."

"Happy Christmas, Burt, Kurt."

Marcia set the new broomstick into the box on the counter, let Burt wrap it, and led Blaine out. They turned off the side street of the alley and onto the main cobblestone street toward the Leaky Cauldron.

"Something happen?"

Blaine shook his head. He felt… funny. Almost defeated in a way. Did Kurt not want to date him? He'd liked their kiss, but he—maybe he didn't want to date. Maybe Kurt didn't want any sort of attachment to him after all. Maybe, like with his admirer, he'd psyched himself up in his head until he hurt himself even more.

"I—we kissed at school. Last week. And I thought—I don't know."

Marcia frowned and jostled her bags until her arm was around his shoulders.

"Well he's a foolish little boy if he can't see the joy in you, love. Nobody will ever be good enough for my baby boys. Neither of you."

But, to Blaine, that wasn't true. Kurt had been good enough—still was fantastic enough to try for.

Kurt watched the door of the shop swing shut. It clanged, echoed right around the suddenly quiet shop, and Kurt glanced around as if he could follow its ringing until he met his dad's eyes.

"Wanna tell me what that was about?"

Kurt went back to working on their last bludger of the evening. He couldn't charm it yet of course—still wasn't allowed to use magic outside of school—but he could make it perfect for Mariann when she came back to work on Boxing Day.

"Kurt."

His dad's bear hand closed over his as he fumbled with the polish. Slowly, Kurt met his eyes.

"What?"

"Don't what me, kid. That boy is always lit up like a firecracker whenever I see him, was when we went to the back and then…"

Burt gave a little gruff nod that meant only one thing: explain. Kurt let go on his rag and wiped his hands on his work robes.

"H-he—we—it's never going to work!"

The words burst out of Kurt before he could stop himself. Burt only appeared mildly puzzled. He pulled up a work stool and forced Kurt to sit with him.

"What's not going to work? Because I can tell what those smiles meant when he walked through that door. You like each other. Why deny it?"

"I'm not. I just—we can't—everyone at school will make fun of us."

"Fun of you?" And Burt was suddenly stern. "Because you're both boys? I'll march myself right up to that school and—"

"No, Dad, it's not that. They don't care about… that. He's—and I'm—our houses, I mean, I don't know…"

"What? Because you're a Slytherin and he's not?"

Kurt nodded, but that was only part of it. Everything went so much deeper because of what he'd done.

Burt sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. He scooped up the bludger and examined it for a few moments.

"Kurt, houses don't mean anything besides what dormitory you sleep in."

"Yes, they do. If we date I'll lose all my friends and probably my Quidditch spot even though Sebastian hates Rachel and—"

Burt grunted and waved an impatient hand. He tossed the bludger into the air a few times and then to Kurt. "You're getting really great at designing these."

Kurt rolled it between his hands. "Thanks."

"Look, I can't force you to date Blaine. Hell, I can't tell you who to be friends with either, but those kids you're hanging with sound lousy. Blaine's a great kid. Marcia never shuts up about him when she stops in, and I think you'll be real sore if you miss out on this chance."

"I know that, but I just—Dad, I can't handle all of what they'll say and do. I'm not you."

Kurt winced a little as his dad leaned back. Burt didn't care to be reminded of the hardships he'd had over the years. Of the vandalism to the shop since he'd taken over or the snide remarks from some customers because he was a Squib. Ever since Kurt was little he could recall those tense moments when he'd looked up to find his mother with her wand drawn and Burt talking her down until whoever it was left. Yet Burt never got angry, never jumped at people or retaliated. He endured and Kurt could only watch.

"No, you're not. You're only yourself, Kurt. And you should be around others who love you the most when you are." Burt removed his hat and pulled something out of it.

"If that's a rabbit—"

But it was a picture. Small and square with three Hogwarts aged kids beaming up at him. Two wore robes, one a Ravenclaw's, the other Gryffindor. The third, a boy, wore muggle clothes.

"You remember before your first year, how I wouldn't tell you what house your mom was in?"

Kurt nodded as he examined the picture. Uncle Arthur in Ravenclaw robes and a head shorter than the other two. The other, older boy was his dad, and the girl—

"Is that Mom?"

"Mhmm."

A welt of disappointment filled Kurt. A Gryffindor. He'd wanted so much to follow her path, to be in her house and be just like her during her Hogwarts days. Instead he was her enemy. He'd disappointed her even when she wasn't alive.

"You are not a disappointment to her. Or to me."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I wanted you to follow your path and go where was best for you. That's what your mom wanted, too. She would be proud of you no matter what house you were in, Kurt. No matter what school you went to or whether or not you had an ounce of magic inside you."

"But Slytherin is—"

"Where you belong. The hat decided that because of what's inside you and that doesn't make you bad or evil or anything else you're cooking up in that head of yours. You are wonderful, and I'll tell you a secret your mom got well before she was your age."

"What?"

"Houses are only for a short time." Burt smiled at Kurt's scoff. "What? You think she only hung out with other Gryffindors after she graduated? Or could only work in places and offices where it was just Gryffindors? In a few years, you're going to leave school and leave all of these rivalries behind because they don't matter. What house you were in is going to be as insignificant as what socks you wore last Christmas. Don't let something meaningless dominate your life or stop you from doing what you want, Kurt."

Kurt stared down at the three little faces still smiling up at him.

"Thanks, Dad. But I—"

"Nope. Get going. The shop's closed and you've got somewhere to be. If you hurry he might still be in the alley."

"But—"

Kurt bit his tongue then. His dad was so sure of him that he couldn't admit the truth. How disappointed would Burt be if he confessed how much he'd hurt Blaine already?

"Come on. Get going."

Burt pulled him to his feet and Kurt went, took the scarf and cloak thrust into his hands and shuffled out into the snowy alley. It couldn't hurt to find him, to accept what Blaine had already asked, and then finally confess what he'd done, could it? And his dad was right. He always was. Slytherin, Hufflepuff, none of that would matter before long. Yet he'd let the fear of it worm its way into him until he'd made this mess. Now was the time to fix it.

Kurt hurried through the mostly empty alley. A few last minute shoppers, several shop keepers cleaning up for the holiday, and finally, at the steps to the Leaky Cauldron, Kurt spotted two heads of dark curls flecked with snow.

"Blaine! Blaine, wait!"

Marcia Anderson turned first. She smiled when she spotted Kurt and tapped Blaine on the shoulder. Blaine spun around and his face lit up. He left his mother on the steps and hurried down to meet Kurt.

"Hey."

"Hi."

Kurt bit his lip, glanced at Blaine's mother a few feet away, and took a deep breath.

"Does that offer of ice cream still stand? Or maybe we could do hot chocolate instead," Kurt said. "It's really cold. There's this little shop next to ours that—"

Blaine grabbed his hand and squeezed. "Yeah, sure. Mom, I—"

Marcia took the violin case from his free hand and kissed his cheek. "Go on, love. Be back before ten, okay? Have fun, boys."

She went into the Leaky Cauldron and Kurt and Blaine were left standing together in the alley alone. In the distance, Kurt spotted two people hurry into a shop as the snow drifted down around them, but this was nice. Quiet, secluded. Nobody from school was here at least.

"I thought you had to work?"

"Dad, um, let me go early. Kind of shoved me out the door actually."

Blaine grinned as Kurt met his eyes, swung their hands between their sides. "I'm glad. So hot chocolate?"

Kurt nodded. They began to walk and Blaine inched close, so close that after a few paces he turned and gave Kurt a warm kiss on the cheek.

"I really like you, Kurt."

"I-I really like you too."

Kurt swallowed as Blaine tentatively rested his head on his shoulder. This was a beautiful moment. The best of his life maybe, but it was all ruined before it started. Today with Blaine would undoubtedly be his last.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I am back! After way too long, and too much silence. Also in the process of moving across the country, so pretty much everything I own is in a box or suitcase at the moment. But I said a long time ago, when I first started writing fanfiction, that I wouldn't never leave a story unfinished. It might take me six year, but I'll finish it. So I have returned with an update, and another chapter I'm almost halfway through writing. I'm going to aim for updating on Mondays, and go from there. The end of July might get a little messy with my second book, With or Without You, coming out on the 21st and packing up a moving truck to drive from the east coast to the west coast, but we'll get to that when we get to that! :D
> 
> So enjoy! I'll see you guys next week

Owl Post

 

Chapter 10

 

The winter holidays flew by too fast for Kurt's liking. Every other day, Blaine arrived at the shop to see him. They went on lunch dates and snowy strolls through the alley, even ventured into Muggle London to see a movie one evening. It was almost perfect, and perfectly lovely, but Kurt's chest ached a little more with each date.

 

Because they were dates now. Blaine had gone so far as to clarify on their last meeting before they headed back to school.

 

"So these are, like, real dates, right? We aren't going to just suddenly pretend none of this happened when we're back at Hogwarts tomorrow, are we?"

 

And Kurt had agreed instantly. How could he not after the heartache he'd already put Blaine through?

 

Yet the guilt weighed more with every smile and kiss. By the time he'd clicked his trunk closed in preparation to depart to King's Cross, Kurt's resolve was stronger than ever. He had to tell him. Today. And if he ruined everything, then at least he was honest.

 

"Kurt, hurry up! We've still got to pick up Mercedes!"

 

Finn barged in a few seconds later.

 

"Come on, man. We can't be late."

 

"Sure we can, that's what Floo Powder is for."

 

Finn flopped down on Kurt's bed and tugged at his Slytherin scarf still knotted around the bedpost. "Why are you all frowny? I figure you'd be excited to see Blaine today. Aren't you two, like, dating now?"

 

A knot of fear twisted in Kurt's throat. "Who told you that?"

 

"Well, Burt said you two have been going out for lunch all week," Finn said. "He was telling Mom all about it over breakfast. They both seemed pretty happy."

 

"Here, take my trunk downstairs so I can carry McQueen."

 

"You don't seem very happy about having a boy—uumph!"

 

Kurt shoved his trunk against Finn until he was out in the hall and heading downstairs. McQueen hooted dolefully from the window ledge.

 

"I'm going to tell Blaine the truth today," Kurt said. McQueen hooted and nodded his head. "I've got to before this gets any further. I've already messed this up beyond repair probably."

 

A sad hoot, but McQueen hopped into his cage willingly. Kurt pulled his scarf and gloves on and headed downstairs. Everything was already packed into the boot and the backseat. He set McQueen inside next to Finn and climbed in beside him.

 

"Ready then? We're going to be late," Carole said from the driver's seat. "Especially with me trying to drive this Muggle contraption."

 

"You've been doing fine," Burt said. "But if we're taking a road trip this spring, then I'm not the only one who's driving us all over the country."

 

"Your father's just too scared to use Floo Powder again."

 

Kurt gave his best smile at her in the rearview mirror as they pulled onto the road. Today was the day. It was difficult to think of anything else. They stopped at Mercedes's house in the Muggle suburbs and picked her up. As she squeezed in beside Kurt, he swallowed. Mercedes would notice his nerves immediately and since Finn knew he and Blaine had been going on dates, Mercedes was undoubtedly about to find out too.

 

"Hey Kurt, Finn. How was Christmas?"

 

"Great. I got that new sweater I've been—"

 

"And a boyfriend," Finn interjected. "Blaine's his—"

 

"Finn!"

 

"Oh, so you two are finally together." Mercedes grinned and did her best to hug him in the crammed backseat. "Kurt, that's great! I need all the details."

 

"Umm, well…" His stomach churned and his eyes flickered to his dad's smile from the passenger seat. "Later, okay?"

 

"But—oh right." Mercedes at least caught on. "We've got the whole train ride to sort it out. Well, part of it. I'm sure you'll be busy elsewhere…"

 

"Hush."

 

Burt and Carole laughed. Even Finn grinned at Kurt's blush, but Kurt didn't laugh. None of them understood the full truth. The person closest to that was Mercedes and who knew what she'd say once he told her. Although, how she didn't know from the rumors that had spread before break was beyond him. Everyone in the castle seemed to have known Blaine had been stood up in Hogsmeade. Or at least, everyone assumed after the rumors Sebastian and Santana had started.

 

They reached King's Cross at a quarter to eleven. Burt and Carole helped them pile out and put their trunks and owls on carts. As Finn led the way onto platform nine and three-quarters, Kurt hung back with his dad.

 

"What's the matter, bud? You look sick."

 

"I'm… I'm fine. Just nervous, I guess."

 

Burt chuckled as Mercedes and Carole took the barrier between platforms nine and ten at a run. He patted Kurt on the shoulder.

 

"First love's are like that. Not saying you two are, you know, not yet." Burt gave an awkward grunt as they leaned against the wall and slipped onto the platform. "In love or anything. That's ridiculous at—well, it's just a nervous thing, first boyfriends. A lot of unknowns to navigate. A lot of firsts, too. Come on, let's get this trunk on before the train leaves."

 

Kurt helped his dad heave his trunk onto the train as Carole helped Mercedes wedge hers through the door. They dropped their luggage and owls in an empty compartment near the end and leaned out the window. Finn had already disappeared, and since he wasn't towering over the rest of the crowd on the platform, Kurt assumed he'd found Puck and was already onboard.

 

Burt reached up to shake Kurt's hand. "You study hard, okay? You're going to need the best grades for the Healers' Academy. No slacking off even if you do have a boyfriend now."

 

Kurt nodded as Carole raised herself up to try to hug him. He leaned down to embrace her. "Don't take him too seriously, okay, Kurt? You and Blaine are adorable and if you slip up a little well you'll still have high grades."

 

Kurt smiled as they broke apart. "I love you. I'll spend you the dates for the Quidditch games soon. We don't play Finn until the end of the semester."

 

"We'll be there," Burt said.

 

The train whistle blew and a billowing plume of steam rose from the engine. Kurt slid back inside the window and waved with Mercedes. He watched his dad and Carole until they were around the corner and out of sight.

 

"Okay, so details. Now."

 

Mercedes pulled Kurt down onto a seat, grinning. Kurt, however, fiddled with the lock on McQueen's cage.

 

"Oh, come on, Kurt, please. Last I heard you were writing to him and then he asked you to Hogsmeade and then—oh. Oh. Kurt, no."

 

That had been easier than expected, but still Kurt played it off. "No what?"

 

"You did not leave that poor boy standing in Hogsmeade by himself," Mercedes said and she looked furious. "Because he was absolutely crushed. He barely spoke in classes for a week and—"

 

The door slid open. Finn ducked in—literally ducked because he was too tall to fit into the hall or compartments anymore—and waved for Kurt's attention.

 

"Hey, did you grab my—"

 

"Gloves? Scarf?" Kurt pulled his trunk out of the luggage rack and dug up Finn's items. Since third year he'd made a habit of packing them with his stuff after the winter holidays. Somehow, despite several years where Finn hadn't been allowed into his room, Finn's scarf and gloves always found their way under the door and onto Kurt's dresser.

 

"Here."

 

"Thanks. Mike Chang's looking for you two. He said the prefect's meeting is at one o'clock. Oh, and Blaine was with him. I told him you were down here. Bye!"

 

Finn slammed the compartment door shut. Kurt shoved his trunk back into the luggage rack as Mercedes clicked her tongue behind him.

 

"So I need the full story. Starting with those letters because you two are dating and none of this makes any sense."

 

Kurt sighed but retook his seat. For twenty minutes he talked from the letters to their almost date in Hogsmeade to his long trail of untruthfulness and the double life he'd been living. Finally, when Kurt had finished Mercedes shook her head.

 

"You've got to tell him."

 

"I'm going to. Today. This is—I've messed up completely. Whatever we have is ruined even though he likes me because I was a coward."

 

But Mercedes only shook her head again as she stood up. "Ruined everything? With someone else maybe, but Blaine… he's a sweet guy. A forgiving, caring, honest boy. I think he'll still give you a chance if he likes you that much, it just might take him some time to work through all of this."

 

Kurt, however, had his doubts but he didn't voice them. This was his battle. Or disaster as it were. He'd made this mess and it was nobody else's job to do anything more than listen to what he'd done. Mercedes shifted topics to the Quidditch season then, telling him all about her issues with Finn as captain and how some days she wished she'd drop her Beater position and just wait until after Hogwarts.

 

"He'd get a real dose of reality if I quit. Our only backup for Beater is this scrawny little second year who's got great aim but no pop. None. The bludger hits her bat and just drops."

 

"I'm sure she'll get better when she's a little bigger," Kurt said as he watched fields zipping past the window. He bounced his legs and kept flinching whenever someone went running past their compartment door. Sooner or later one of those people would be Blaine. "She's got a few years to grow into it."

 

Mercedes hummed and looked out the window too.

 

For several moments it was silent. Kurt watched another pair of students go clambering past their door.

 

"Just go and find him," Mercedes said. "It's about time we split up anyway. I'm sure your housemates will be around before long."

 

Those words normally meant so much to him. A flutter of panic, a creeping feeling on the back of his neck, even a bubble of fear in his stomach. Yet the only person who came to mind was Blaine. He'd put himself first instead of Blaine. Consistently and constantly ever since he'd written that first letter. He'd done all of this for himself—to protect himself from his friends' wrath.

 

"Forget them," Kurt said. "I've got more important—if they don't—I'm going to find Blaine, okay? I'll be back in a bit."

 

"Good luck," Mercedes said as he slid the compartment door open. "Be honest, and then patient."

 

Kurt nodded and stepped into the corridor. All the other students had disappeared from their back and forth jogging trips. Kurt glanced behind him toward the end of the train. Only a few compartments separated him from the luggage compartments at the end. It would be best to head toward the engine.

 

He set off along the corridors, all the while trying to word his explanation in just the perfect way that he wouldn't crush Blaine's happiness entirely.

 

Remember that boy who was writing to you? Surprise! It's me.

 

No, he'd get slapped for that.

 

I've been lying to you—

 

Guilty starts led to arguments and defensive words. An apology to start instead?

 

Blaine, I'm sorry that I—

 

He'd never get all the words out. Blaine would cut him off and say he had nothing to be sorry about even though he did. Kurt's own apology would cone him into Blaine's unyielding faith in people's goodness.

 

Well, I was the one who wrote you but I was scared—

 

"So scared I ran off and left him just standing there," Kurt muttered. He rubbed his hands over his face as he stepped into the next section of the train.

 

Maybe he could just blurt it out. That always seemed to be how he did these things best. Blaine's reaction to that, however, might not be so great.

 

Kurt scanned the compartments that he passed but he didn't spot Blaine. By the time he'd reached the engine, he'd chatted with Finn, several Ravenclaws from his Arithmancy class, spotted Brittany and Santana snogging in a compartment all of their own, and managed to duck past his housemates without being noticed. But he hadn't seen Blaine.

 

Confused, Kurt headed back to his compartment with Mercedes. When he opened the door it was to laughter and Blaine's beautiful smile.

 

"Kurt! I was looking for you," Blaine said. He jumped to his feet, took a step toward Kurt, and then paused with a significant glance at Mercedes. "I guess we, um, missed each other in the hall. The prefect's meeting is—"

 

"It's okay, Blaine. Mercedes knows."

 

But what she knew and what would be true by the time they got to Hogwarts was anyone's guess. Mercedes smiled only slightly as she nudged Kurt out of the doorway and stepped into the corridor.

 

"I'll just take my time fixing my makeup in the bathroom. The one all the way at the front of the train," Mercedes said. She gave them a little wave and shut the compartment door.

 

Blaine smiled like sunlight as he leaned up to kiss Kurt, and Kurt returned it as best he could with his stomach churning as it was.

 

"I missed you. I know it's only been like two days but—is something wrong? You don't seem okay."

 

Kurt swallowed and sat down. Blaine took the seat beside him.

 

"Kurt? Is this about Mercedes knowing? And everyone finding out today? Well, maybe not today, but tomorrow and the rest of the week. Because we'll get through it together, okay? It's going to be—"

 

"I'm lying to you."

 

Blaine tensed slightly. For a moment, he didn't say anything. Neither did Kurt. He stared from his lap to Blaine's face to the window and the wild green forest sliding past.

 

"O-okay."

 

To Kurt's surprise, Blaine reached out and took hold of his hands. He squeezed one of Kurt's in each of his own and rested them on his thighs.

 

Kurt looked up and swallowed. Blaine didn't exactly look angry, but he didn't appear as happy as he had when Kurt had walked into the compartment five minutes ago.

 

"What are you lying about?"

 

He'd expected such a different reaction from Blaine. For him to immediately get angry and start in on him, for an argument to break out before he'd even managed to tell him everything. Yet Blaine seemed calm in a way. Expectant. He wanted to know everything before he said more.

 

"I—" Kurt swallowed again. This would ruin them. "I was the—I've been—the letters," Kurt said finally. "I've been the one writing you all of those anonymous letters since term started. At first it was—I was too scared to ask you out. I could barely talk to you. And I mean, you obviously know how my friends are, so… I'm sorry. I'm sorry I left you standing in Hogsmeade that day and I'm sorry I couldn't just be brave enough to tell you in person instead of starting those letters or that I couldn't—I don't know. I'm just sorry I've let everything get this far and let us get to where we are without telling you before now and—"

 

"Why did you have to do that?"

 

Blaine's voice was sharp suddenly and Kurt looked up from their clasped hands. A second later, Blaine's palms were pulled from his. Blaine was shaking, from anger and something deeper.

 

"I just wanted to talk to you and—"

 

"No, not the letters. You left me standing there. You showed up invisible. Why didn't you come back after they left? Why haven't you said anything about—forget it. Just forget it."

 

Blaine stood up and Kurt reached for him. Tears clung to Blaine's eyelashes but he wiped them away before they could fall.

 

"I'll see you class tomorrow," Blaine said as he slammed the door open. "Or, you know, maybe I won't. Knowing you, you'll just send an owl with a note, right?"

 

"Blaine, please—I'm sorry."

 

But the compartment door was rolled shut in his face. One of the glass panes cracked. Kurt hurried to follow, but Blaine was already storming away down the corridor out of sight. He didn't return.

 

Kurt didn't bother to fix the glass. He curled up in his seat, legs pulled up to his chest. He'd done it then. Finally, maybe for the first time since they'd begun to talk—through letters or face to face—he'd been fully honest.

 

"Reparo!"

 

Kurt sniffed and rested his forehead on his knees. Mercedes was back and she was frowning.

 

"Give him time, Kurt. Blaine's a—"

 

Kurt only shook his head, and Mercedes understood. She sat back down and opened a book. He'd been honest and what had it gotten him?

 

Blaine wasn't sure how he made it back to his compartment. His friends were in the middle of a rousing game of Exploding Snap, but all of them paused at the sight of his tears. Mike shut the door quietly and Dani took hold of his wrists. His arms were shaking. His whole body might be.

 

Kurt had lied to him.

 

Kurt had written those letters.

 

Kurt had left him in Hogsmeade.

 

"Blaine? What's wrong?"

 

Yet Blaine couldn't answer. No matter who asked, or how many times the question was spoken, Blaine stayed silent. He'd dreamed of Kurt liking him for so long, and while he'd hoped Kurt was his admirer, he'd never dared to think it was true. Especially not after Hogsmeade.

 

"Blaine, please say something."

 

Elliott had him clutched against his side as Dani combed her fingers through her hair. Still, Blaine said nothing. He shook his head and sniffled.

 

The trolley lady came and went. The afternoon sun, slowly crept into sight of their window, reflecting off the glass and leaving a warm orange glow around them. Blaine sat up and shook his friends off. Most of them had gone back to playing Exploding Snap while Blaine had been silent, but they all paused when he stood.

 

"Blaine, please just—"

 

"I've got to go to the bathroom."

 

They all nodded as he left. Blaine wandered the corridor. He headed up front to use that bathroom, and then took his time heading back, gazing into other compartments and wondering…

 

Before he'd known it was Kurt, he'd been willing to accept his admirer's fear. Even if he had told Blaine his identity, it wouldn't have changed anything. Even after Hogsmeade. He could have forgiven that. In many ways, he already had.

 

No, it was the relationship they'd built outside of that. It was Kurt lying and building all of this trust with him when the entire time he'd had this secret.

 

"Oi, Anderson! Why so glum?"

 

Sebastian Smythe had appeared in the corridor, blocking his way back to his compartment. Blaine glanced at the open door beside them. Rachel Berry, Jesse St. James, and Dave Karofsky. None of them looked particularly friendly, but Kurt wasn't among them. Even now that gave him some sort of dull hope.

 

"Move, Smythe."

 

"Oh, someone's fiery today," Rachel called from the compartment. The others laughed, but before Blaine could reply a voice behind Sebastian interrupted them.

 

"Leave him only, Smythe. Stop being such an ass."

 

It was Kurt. His face was splotchy like he'd been crying, but his eyes were narrowed. Sebastian grinned at him.

 

"Where the hell have you been, Hummel? You getting some feelings for a dorky little Hufflepuff?"

 

"Some feelings in his pants," Rachel said, but she'd stood to look out at Kurt in the corridor. "What's wrong with you?"

 

Instead of answering, Kurt pushed her into the compartment, grabbed Sebastian by the arm, and dragged him into the compartment. He didn't say anything as he shut the door, but Blaine heard their complaints and shouts as he headed down the corridor.

 

And what of it?

 

Kurt had come to his aid now, when it was all but meaningless, instead of when he'd needed him most. He'd kept the truth from him for two months, all the while becoming his friend and boyfriend. Or that had been Blaine's hope this morning. Now he didn't know what he wanted. He retook his seat with Dani and Elliott and breathed deeply.

 

"So I found out who my secret admirer was…"


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Moooondaaay! So yay for meeting self-made deadline. I shall do my best to update next Monday as well. Enjoy!

Chapter 11

Life back at Hogwarts was scarcely how Kurt remembered it. His first week back felt more like a black hole than a return to classes and homework and Quidditch practices. His friends barely spoke to him, Blaine ignored him, and every time he got near Sebastian or Rachel they both gave him funny looks. Neither of them seemed to know the truth, but they were suspicious of the way he'd acted on the train and how miserable he'd been ever since.

From what he could tell, Blaine hadn't told anyone the truth yet. Or if he had, his friends had remained silent, which was almost unfathomable for Kurt. If any of his friends had found out, then the entire school would know by breakfast the next morning. He'd be ostracized by not only his own friends, but his entire house and, at the very least, taunted by many of the other students. Yet, it was calm on the rumor front. There was one strange one going around about some first years and a colony of cats, but otherwise it was boring.

Still Kurt felt sick. He hardly ate, he slept roughly if he slept at all, and his homework suffered immediately. By his first weekend back, he had twelve essays he'd neglected and nothing he did seemed to get him motivated to write them.

Blaine must hate him. He must loathe him. No matter what Mercedes had said on the train or in Arithmancy this week, Blaine would never want anything to do with him ever again.

"For fuck's sake, Hummel, you've been acting like someone died all week," Santana said, throwing down her quill. It was Sunday afternoon, and while they were supposed to be working on homework together, Kurt was moping. "What the hell is your problem?"

"I'm fine."

"You aren't, you little elf—"

"I've been taller than you for almost two years."

"Doesn't make your porcelain, pointed face any less elven. Whatever. Just go mope somewhere else. I can't think straight with you sighing every five seconds."

Kurt shut his Potions book and packed it back into his bag. He hadn't even bothered to bring out any parchment for the essays he hadn't started. What did it matter if he had a bunch of zeros this semester?

Before Kurt realized it, he was walking through the entrance hall and upstairs. He climbed and climbed, just wandering aimlessly down the empty corridors. The few people he did see were too busy hurrying around to pay him any attention. And so what if they did?

They didn't know anything, and yet Kurt wished they did. He wished the entire school knew the truth about those letters—his letters—to Blaine. About his cowardice, his shame, and his guilt. He wanted nothing more than to be free of the guilt that still clogged him, but he didn't have any way forward to do that. Blaine refused to go near him, and Kurt didn't blame him.

Kurt paused at the top of the next flight of stairs and looked around. He was in an unfamiliar corridor, somewhere near North Tower perhaps. He'd never taken Divination, but he'd heard numerous times that the classroom was up here. In six years, he'd never wander up to see this part of the castle. He'd never cared to.

"Who dares to trespass on Sir Cadogan's lands? Stand and fight, you rogue!"

Kurt jumped at the voice from his left. A little knight was waving his arms from a painting. It was a hilly landscape with a fat gray pony grazing in the background. As the knight tugged at his sword, he unsheathed it and the weight of it pulled him over.

"Sorry. I'll just go…"

"Fight, I say! You scurvy rogue! You brazen—"

"Hi, Kurt! Oh, hey, Caddy!"

"Ah, Lady Brittany, we meet again. Another quest today for our fair lady Tubbington?"

The little knight hopped to his feet, his sword forgotten on the ground. Brittany smiled at him and shook her head.

"No, maybe tomorrow. I was just looking for my bubblegum, but I can't find it in any of my classes."

"Bubblegum?" Kurt said, as Brittany hooked her arm through his and led him along the corridor.

"Mhmm, I was chewing it on Friday, and then stuck it somewhere. It was all my favorite flavors."

"Right. Listen, I should get back to… to…"

Brittany shook her head and led him down the corridor and then along another to the right.

"You can't be so sad all the time," Brittany said as they walked. "It's not good for you. Or McQueen. Your face is too narrow to have frowny lines. Wait until the rest of your face sags to start working on those."

"McQueen's fine," Kurt said, but truthfully he hadn't been up to the Owlery since they'd returned to Hogwarts a week ago. "I'm fine."

"Lord Tubbington doesn't think so, and I say he's right. He's very good at reading people. Why are you so sad, Kurt? You're supposed to be a unicorn and shine brightly like the sun."

"I—it's a long story."

Could he tell Brittany? Would she keep his secret, and if she didn't, would anyone actually believe her? Probably not. Hardly anyone took Brittany's words for truth, except maybe Santana. Which was another problem, but he needed someone to talk to about this. Someone he could walk around with without rumors spreading or that person shouting out everything he said like Finn would do. And if Brittany did tell Santana…

Well, the entire castle would know then. Maybe that was for the best. It might take away the sick feeling he got every time Blaine looked at him across a classroom.

That or Santana would blackmail him, but for what point or purpose was difficult to say. Of his Slytherin friends, Santana and him got along the best, but that didn't mean she wouldn't blow this all up as soon as she got wind of it.

"Kurt?"

"So, there's this guy I like…"

Kurt talked for the next twenty minutes, along three more corridors and up a ladder through a trapdoor that led into a stuffy classroom. Kurt took a seat on a big purple pouf in what Brittany said was the Divination room. As Brittany searched for her gum, Kurt talked himself into silence.

"… and I don't know what I'm supposed to do. Blaine hasn't spoken to me and—"

"Then go talk to him, silly." Brittany knocked a table over and examined the underside. "Blaine's a sweetie, I'm sure he'll listen."

"I don't think it's that simple," Kurt said. He fiddled with the crystal ball on the table and was surprised when Brittany sat down with him. "He actually skipped Care of Magical Creatures this week to avoid me. What?"

"What makes you think he did that because of you? Besides, if you like him, then take the risk. Or do something bold. Boys usually like bold things. Well, boys and Santana."

"What kind of bold?"

"You could serenade him in Potions. Or make him a love potion—"

"I don't think love potions work the way you think they do."

"You mean they don't make everyone love each other forever?"

"Not exactly."

"Oh. Well, you should just be honest with him and willing to not hide anymore. You two are going to be so cute together. I can't think of why anyone would be against you two dating."

"I don't know, Britt."

"Stop being so scared of whatever other people are going to say and just say yes to Blaine. He won't turn you away forever. Hogwarts is just temporary. I've been told it's actually locked within a broken Time Turner and none of this is real."

Kurt snorted as Brittany ducked under the table, but her words echoed his dad's. Burt had said something similar, without broken Time Turners and locked realities, but they were both right, weren't they? His time at Hogwarts wouldn't last forever. At some point, he had to grow up and leave all of these rivalries and fears behind.

"Ah ha!"

Brittany reappeared with a wad of blue gum that she popped into her mouth. Kurt made a face, but she only laughed.

"Well, are you going to go see him now?"

"Maybe tomorrow. I've got so many essays to write tonight."

Brittany pulled him to his feet and beamed. "We can write them together! Do you think Professor Sylvester will like mine better if I use a purple crayon this time?"

Another Monday and Blaine was exhausted. Emotionally, physically, mentally. His friends wouldn't stop bugging him about dealing with Kurt, his homework was an ever growing mountain, and every time he walked down the hall and spotted Kurt his stomach churned. By Thursday, Sam had dragged him to the hospital wing to get a potion for his stomach, and Blaine hadn't bothered to refuse. It meant missing Care of Magical Creatures, and that was the first time he would truly come face to face with Kurt.

Why should seeing Kurt make him feel guilty? So what if Kurt looked as miserable as Blaine felt? He deserved to feel awful and yet…

Blaine missed him. Little moments they'd shared popped into his head every time he closed his eyes. Laughs over hot chocolate as they strolled through Diagon Alley, sweet kisses in the dark movie theater for a movie Blaine couldn't remember, and the gentle conversations of them getting to know each other. The more Blaine remembered of winter break, the more he stitched Kurt together with the mystery boy's life from his letters. The letters that hadn't been written by a mystery boy at all.

At dinner that evening, Blaine found himself watching Kurt from his seat at the Hufflepuff table. He was talking a little to someone Blaine didn't know, but he never smiled. His friends weren't sitting anywhere near him either. Had he told them the truth?

Somehow, Blaine didn't think so. If Santana Lopez found out something as juicy as this, she'd tell every person in the castle.

"Blaine, come on, you need to eat."

Elliott and Sam nudged his elbows with platters of potatoes and roast beef. Reluctantly, Blaine let them fill his plate and watch him eat. Everything was rubbery, tasteless. He swallowed and sighed.

"You can't keep acting like this. Either go talk to him or just forget about him. Ask someone else out," Sam suggested.

Blaine finished eating and left. He was all the way down at the common room entrance before he realized someone was following. Finn Hudson was behind him, and how Blaine hadn't noticed his towering, clomping figure was beyond him.

"Can we talk, man?"

"If this is about Kurt—"

"How could you do that to him? He was so excited to have his first boyfriend."

"And you think I wasn't? And I didn't do anything. He's the one who was lying. It's his own fault he's miserable."

Blaine turned back to his common room entrance, but with Finn still standing there, he didn't dare speak the password.

"How's it his fault you broke up with him?"

Finn was furious, but he did a good job of trying to hold it in. His face said it all though. He didn't have a clue what had happened. He probably hadn't even spoken to Kurt, but he'd clearly noticed how miserable his brother had been.

"It's his fault he lied and wrote all of those letters and left me standing in Hogsmeade like a moron and if you don't understand that then maybe you should ask him. Please just go away. I'm sick of talking about this with everyone."

Finn frowned at him, but blocked the door even though he was starting to look guilty.

"You really had a good reason to break up? Kurt's a great guy, and even if he's messed up… don't write him off, okay? Give him another shot. He's worth it."

Finn walked away after that. Blaine watched him until he was down the corridor and out of sight. He spoke the password to the wooden door and entered the almost empty common room. A few seventh years were scattered around the room, hard at work and taking advantage of the silence while their house was at dinner. Mike Change was among them. Blaine set his bag down on the armchair beside him and groaned.

"If you so much as mention him, I'll stab your eyes out with your captain's badge."

Mike glanced at him as Blaine took a seat and dug out his Transfiguration essay and book. He'd caught up a little over the weekend since he'd been too miserable to get much done last week, but he was still behind on most of his school work.

"Something else happen?"

The question didn't catch Blaine off guard, but the tone did. Mike sounded nervous. He'd been acting weird all week whenever someone mentioned Kurt around him. Blaine watched him now, from his fingers curling to the corner of his mouth twitching.

"No. Well, Finn Hudson followed me down here, but… are you okay? You've been acting weird ever since I told you guys that Kurt and I were… well, I don't know what we were honestly."

"I thought you didn't want to talk about him right now." Mike went back to his essay, but his hand shook as he wrote. He blotted the parchment several times and winced.

Something was definitely wrong. Blaine had known Mike long enough to know when he was hiding something. When Blaine didn't start working on his essays, too, Mike paused and glanced up at him.

"You going to tell me what's going on or are you going to pull a Kurt and start lying to me, too?"

Mike swallowed and set his quill down.

Blaine set his down too. He hadn't even loaded it with ink yet, but Mike's expression made him think he wouldn't be getting any work done tonight either.

"What?"

"I knew it was Kurt. Not at first," Mike rushed to add as Blaine's expression turned sour, "but after Hogsmeade, I was in the Owlery and he came rushing in to send you that next letter and he was talking to his owl…"

"You knew?"

The words made Blaine feel hollow. Was everyone he trusted lying to him? Kurt was one thing. They'd barely known each other, even through letters, but Mike…

"You said you weren't going to write him anymore, and it wasn't my place to tell his secret. I figured it wouldn't matter since you were done writing him. I didn't realize the boy you were studying with before Christmas was Kurt. I'm sorry. I should have said something."

"No, you're… I don't know that I would have believed you if you had. Kurt's always been so nice, especially compared to his friends. Even in his letters he was nice."

"He seemed really mad at himself for leaving you there. And worried about what you'd think," Mike said. "He does care about you, even if he's been stupid."

Blaine sighed and sat back in his chair. That was the one truth he kept coming back to every time he talked himself in circles about all of this. Kurt did care about him. He couldn't, and wouldn't, deny that. He'd put himself at risk to write to him, to meet him in Hogsmeade, even if he'd hidden. Even if it was selfish in hindsight, but the letters…

They'd been so sweet, but now, they seemed timid in a way. What had Kurt's expectations truly been by writing those letters? To get to know him, perhaps, but never to truly spend time with him. Yet at the same time, he'd began to speak to Blaine in class, to spend time with him.

A confidence boost maybe?

Blaine's head ached from trying to sort it out. The only way he'd ever get any answers was by talking to Kurt. He hadn't been able to bring himself to do that yet. Both because he was still angry at him, but also because he was hurt too. And, even if he didn't want to admit it half the time, he worried what would happen if someone spotted him and Kurt talking alone. Kurt had done so much to protect himself from the wrath of his house, and at so much cost, and it made Blaine furious. Not that Kurt had tried to protect himself, but that he still cared enough to worry about Kurt in that way.

He didn't want Kurt to lose his friends. Or his Quidditch spot or have to deal with being ridiculed in the place that was supposed to be his home here at Hogwarts.

Mostly, it was the double life of it that made Blaine mad. One simple letter saying who he was, and explaining why would have been enough. Surely Kurt could have trusted him enough for that.

"Blaine?"

"Huh? Sorry."

"You zoned out there. Are you mad at me? It's fine if you are. I'd be mad at me."

Mike dipped his quill in ink and watched him. And Blaine couldn't be mad at him, not really. He couldn't stay mad at Kurt either, because he got it. Even now, he still wanted to hold Kurt's hand and kiss his cheek and to sit down and have dinner together, regardless of what anyone else said or did to them.

Kurt was worth that to him, but he didn't think the same was true for how Kurt felt about him.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sorry I'm late with this one, everyone! I had to finish up some writing prompts and questionnaire stuff for my book release next week, and it took up a lot more time than I'd planned on. Anyway, here's an update, and I think the content will make up for the delay. Hopefully :)
> 
> Enjoy!

Owl Post

Chapter 12

"Are you all right? You seem jittery."

Kurt tried to stop bouncing his legs under the table he shared with Mercedes but it was impossible. In an hour, he'd be in Care of Magical Creatures with Blaine. They'd finally have a chance to talk. He fidgeted with his hands until Mercedes grabbed them.

"Stop shaking the desk!" Mercedes glared at him. "Spill before I stab you with my quill. You're making a mess of my essay."

Kurt glanced from his own blank piece of parchment to Mercedes' foot and a half on their assignment. Professor Vex had left a few moments ago to check on something, and the class was still dutifully scribbling out the beginnings of the essay she'd assigned for homework.

"What?"

Kurt bit his lip. "I, um, I see Blaine in my next class. That's all."

"You're ruining my essay because you're seeing Blaine?" Mercedes gave him a flat look as she set her quill down. "Have you two still not spoken?"

"It's not like I sit beside him in every class," Kurt said with a sharp look at their classmates. A few had started to goof off, and since the class size was small they were spread out all over the room. Nobody would hear them. "Besides, we're in class. We can't really chat then. Care of Magical Creatures is… well, we're off in our own groups and Professor Beiste isn't paying too much attention to all of us at once."

"Well, are you going to apologize again?"

"Yeah. I mean, I don't know what else to do." Kurt shrugged and picked up his own quill. "I can't talk to him until he's ready to talk back, can I?"

"You could—"

But what he could do, Kurt didn't find out. Professor Vex returned to scold them for goofing around and Kurt hurried to write something out about the assignment to look busy. By the time the bell rang, Mercedes was hurrying off to her common room and then her choir meeting and Kurt was headed to the Great Hall for a quick lunch.

He joined Santana and Sebastian halfway down the Slytherin table.

Santana gave him a hard look as he sat down. Kurt leveled her with one of his own, but something about her gaze was more than critical. It was suspicious. Had Brittany finally spilled the beans after four days?

"Did you finish that assignment on selkies?"

Kurt nodded at her, then yanked his bag out of her reach when she dived for it.

"Oh, come on, Hummel. I just need six more inches to finish."

Sebastian snorted, choked on his soup, and had to smack his own chest to breathe.

"I hardly think you could handle six inches," Kurt said, and Sebastian choked all over again.

"No, but Britt could. She needs that essay more than I do."

Santana's gaze was piercing as Sebastian stumbled to his feet and left the Great Hall, still laughing and choking.

"Oh, he left his bag. Wonder if he's got anything good in there."

As Santana began to dig through Sebastian's things, Kurt watched her, his chest tight. Did she know? Was this the first of many days or weeks or months of blackmail?

Rachel dropped down into Sebastian's empty seat and frowned at Santana's rummaging.

"Are you seriously going through someone's bag?"

"Yeah, that's a thing that I do. I go through all of your stuff every year when we first get back."

"What?"

The rest of Kurt's lunch was spent watching Rachel rage at Santana for going through her belongings for the past six years, and then Rachel started a list of everything she'd ever lost and demanded that Santana returned all of it. Santana, of course, refused. Rachel left them in a huff as they headed down to the Slytherin common room to change out their books and grab their warmest cloaks, hats, and gloves for class. They were still studying down by the lake, but for the most part they sat around a fire and worked in their groups.

Santana met him back at the common room entrance and they headed back up to the entrance hall together.

"So that essay…"

"Is mine. It's not on me to finish your assignment," Kurt said. His neck shivered a little as they passed up a staircase and into other dungeon corridor. "Spend less time making out and more time—"

"Pining over a dolt in Hufflepuff?"

He was caught then, but Kurt still played it off. "Thinking of dumping Brittany already?"

Santana stepped in front of him and blocked the last staircase into the entrance hall. Kurt could hear the sounds of the rest of the school finishing their lunches and heading to their next class.

"Don't act daft. You've got a crush. Or boyfriend. Ex. Whatever. You and Anderson," Santana said with a wicked little smile. "I don't know why I didn't see it before."

"So blackmail then? You'll what? Tell everyone if I don't do whatever you ask, I expect. Like that's something new or original," Kurt stepped around her, even as his heart thudded in his throat. Everyone was going to know soon. They'd know and then… what?

They'd know and that didn't change anything. Not his feelings or Blaine's or the situation he'd created. It wouldn't stop him from doing well in his classes or graduating or wanting to be with Blaine. It wouldn't change anything about who he was and wasn't either.

"Just give me the damn essay," Santana said, but Kurt shook his head. "Ugh, do you—come on. Let me have some fun with this."

"Blackmail isn't fun."

"I'm—look, Britt made me swear I won't tell on you, okay? I just want your damn essay so I can finish this stupid thing."

Kurt stared at her from his spot halfway up the stairs. He couldn't bring himself to believe her, but Brittany, despite how Santana acted and talked, meant a lot to her. She probably had for longer than any of them had realized they were together.

"You're not going to tell the entire school?"

Santana flushed. "No, okay? I—listen, I don't give a damn about you or Anderson, but Britt does. And besides, we need you to get that Quidditch cup and Sebastian finding out all of that means you're gone and Berry's back and…" Santana glowered at the floor. "You should be happy, too."

"You want to say that a little louder? Didn't quite catch that."

"Don't make me repeat myself, Hummel. I just… I get it. Britt's one of the few girls in this school that's into women, and she's the only one that's not in Gryffindor or Hufflepuff. I don't… Anderson's a good guy. That's all. You two would… whatever. Can I have that essay or what?"

Kurt gave her a suspicious look, but he pulled his essay out. "Be quick."

Santana hovered in the corridor, her essay unrolled as she pestered Kurt with a few questions on rewording. When the bell rang she threw his back to him and together they headed into the entrance hall and then down the castle steps to the lake. The rest of the class was just ahead of them, led by Professor Beiste, with Blaine's dark curls among them. Kurt hesitated at the door, but Santana kicked him right through.

"Move. I need to find Britt." Santana dragged him along until they caught up.

"Everyone knows the drill. Separate into groups and compare the drawings you did last class. I've set up fire pits all around the lake, enough for each group."

Professor Beiste dismissed them to their groups and Kurt spotted Brittany already arm in arm with Blaine. Santana winked at him. Kurt grimaced. Having Santana involved wasn't going to help this situation. He'd almost rather have her blackmailing him. At least then she wouldn't be in the middle of their mess.

"Go get your boy, Hummel."

"He's not—we're—let go."

Kurt pulled his arm free from her grasp. Santana rolled her eyes but headed over to Brittany for a quick kiss. They settled around the fire with Blaine as Kurt approached. Blaine took his time getting his parchment and book out as Kurt sat down between him and Brittany.

"Hi, Kurt!" Brittany kissed his cheek until Santana growled. Then she was in Santana's lap and was too busy kissing to say anything else.

Kurt cleared his throat. "So, um, hey."

Blaine gave a stiff nod then jumped at the thunder of Professor Beiste's voice.

"Lopez! Pierce! How many times do I have to give you detention for this? My class is not a snog session."

The girls were dragged away for a lecture on common decency, and Kurt found himself sitting with Blaine, alone.

"They never learn, do they?"

That was all Blaine said, but it was enough. He didn't make any eye contact, his face aimed firmly at his book, but Kurt breathed a sigh of relief.

"No, especially Santana. Brittany just kind of gets pulled into her trouble half the time."

"Here." Blaine handed him a quill and for a while they worked in silence together, sharing Blaine's book and Kurt's ink. Kurt kept opening his mouth to say something—to apologize once more or to see if they might ever be friends again. Yet, by the time they were trading their drawings from last week, Kurt still hadn't said anything. He didn't want to ruin this comfortable silence they'd found.

"I guess they aren't coming back," Blaine said as Kurt glanced at his watch. Class ended in ten minutes and they'd seen no sign of Brittany or Santana since Professor Beiste had pulled them away.

"I guess Beiste finally realized it was better to keep them close."

"Yeah, well, it's for the best. Kind of."

It was awkward. Every word made Kurt want to cringe. The silence had been comfortable, but not because it was positive. Silence was only a more comfortable way of avoiding everything that was still unresolved between them.

"Blaine, look, I'm sorry about—"

"I know. That's not… I know you're sorry, Kurt. I've known that since you said it."

Kurt nodded as they packed their things away. "Okay. I am. Truly. I never meant to hurt you."

"What did you mean to do? You started those letters," Blaine said and he didn't look angry anymore, only worn. "You wrote and wrote, and then we went to meet and you left me there. Then we started getting to know each other and I don't get it, okay? Do you even care about me? You keep trying to get close to me but you're too—I don't know. All you want to do is hide. And that'd be fine if you'd just told me up front. We could have talked about all of this instead of whatever this is now. I don't want any more secrets. Not even if we're together."

Blaine stood up as the bell boomed from the castle. Kurt stared up at him. How could Blaine think he didn't care?

"I wanted to get to know you. And I was too scared to do it myself," Kurt admitted. "But that doesn't mean I don't care about you. I should have told you after Hogsmeade, but I didn't want you to hate me."

"I could never hate you, Kurt. But I can't do this secrecy stuff anymore. I just… I wish you had better housemates. Or friends or whatever. I don't want to force you to deal with all of them, but I'm not being anything more than your friend unless we're open and honest about being together."

Blaine headed into the castle alone. Kurt followed him with his eyes as he packed his book up. Santana and Brittany met him on his way to the castle with a crowd of third years coming from the greenhouses. Brittany was as bubbly as ever, but Santana glowered the entire walk to the castle.

"So are you two stuck being buddies with Beiste for the rest of the year?"

Santana snarled. "Either that or we get separated us into different groups. Ugh, I just want to snog my girl."

"That's what couches are for."

"And what about you and Anderson? Any secret make-out sessions while Beiste was distracted?"

Kurt frowned at her choice of words. Secrets. He'd built their relationship on secrecy and his own desperate need for self-preservation. Blaine was right. He couldn't do that anymore. He shouldn't have friends that made him feel like he had to, and yet…

He looked at Santana walking beside him. Her promise and lack of hatred had surprised him. Sure, most of that was because of Brittany's influence, but what if his other friends didn't care either? They might be leery of him spilling Quidditch secrets, but even then that wasn't anything to get upset about. Had he been making a fool of himself this whole time on a baseless fear?

Kurt said goodbye to Santana and Brittany at the grand staircase and headed down to his common room to think. So what if Sebastian or Rachel got angry? Playing Quidditch was great, and Sebastian, even if he was furious about this, would still rather have him on the team than Rachel. He could handle whatever they threw at him as long as he had Blaine at his side.

For the rest of the afternoon, Kurt stayed in his dormitory and tried to decide how best to approach Blaine. They could be together. Or start again as friends first. It didn't matter as long as they got to spend time together. He headed up to dinner with his mind buzzing at all the possibilities.

Would Rachel overreact? Of course. She never did anything else.

Sebastian would be jealous perhaps. And then angry when he realized why Kurt had turned him away from Blaine last semester.

Everyone else… well, that was unimportant. Why should nameless, faceless people not involved in his life have more of a say on who he dated than he did himself?

Kurt turned past the other house tables and headed toward the Slytherin table at the end of the hall. His friends were crowded around the far end of their house table, heads together as they whispered and ate. He headed toward them, glancing at the professors at the high table in front of them. Most of them were absence so far, but Professor Sylvester had her eyes trained on him. Kurt swallowed and joined his friends. He'd never said much to Professor Sylvester, but she'd always given him the impression her insanity meant she could read minds.

"Hummel, we're playing Gryffindor next month instead of Hufflepuff."

"Okay."

Rachel glared at him, but he kept his eyes across the hall on Blaine. H was seated with his friends, too, but his smile didn't seem to reach his eyes while everyone else around him laughed at some joke.

"Don't you care that we're playing our biggest rival in three weeks? This is the biggest match of the year!" Rachel kicked him under the table and Sebastian rolled his eyes. "He can't focus, so he's not going to be any good during a match. Just let me have my spot back and—"

"It's not your spot anymore," Kurt said. He stood up again and Santana raised her eyebrows as she followed his gaze with her eyes. "I've got someone else I'm going to eat with tonight. Anything's better than listening to you snarl like a feral cat."

Rachel began to protest loudly as he walked away. Even Sebastian hollered after him, but he heard Santana's voice hush them with a harsh word and bid for them to wait and see. Kurt took a deep breath as he passed across the front of the hall. Along the high table and past the Ravenclaws who glanced at him, and then did a double take when they realized he was heading away from the Slytherin table. Kurt turned down the row between the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor tables and stopped beside Blaine and his friends.

The blond one, Sam, gave a little squeal that was almost endearing it he hadn't been yanking on everyone's arms. "I told you! See? Blaine, see!"

"Shut up, Sam." Blaine turned to him, uncertain. "Hi."

"Hey, so I was wondering if I could have dinner with you tonight? If you want."

"R-really?"

Blaine stared at him, not with a look of wonder or excitement, but something deeper. Hope. Kurt smiled nervously at Blaine's friends and then at Blaine himself.

"You want to—everyone can—"

Could see. And hear. Kurt glanced at the Gryffindor table behind him, at Finn and Mercedes standing up to grin at him. Everyone was starting to whisper all across the hall, but Kurt stood his ground. This was what he wanted. This was who he wanted. What they all said or did wasn't important.

"Okay, yeah. Here."

Blaine nudged Sam to scoot down and made a space for Kurt at his side. As Kurt sat, the whispers buzzed around the hall. He risked a glance at his own house table and saw his friends watching him suspiciously. Rachel actually got up and left, but that was no surprise. He swallowed nervously as Blaine introduced each of his friends—Sam, Mike, Elliott, Dani—and then took hold of Kurt's hand.

Blaine beamed at him, despite the whispers and the Slytherins standing to look at them. Kurt squeezed his hand, and Blaine squeezed back.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I'm late with updates again. I know, I'm sorry. I've been busy with my second book's release and work and moving plans and doing a virtual book tour for my book. I also update the info in my profile on here for anyone who's interested in checking out my books :)
> 
> Anyway, update update update! Happy things afoot for the boys! Enjoy!

Owl Post

Chapter 13

Friday was a blur for Blaine. All over the castle people whispered at the sight of him and Kurt as they sat together at breakfast, then walked to their classes together. Professor Sylvester kept popping up in the corridors, shouting for everyone to stop gawking and taking house points from anyone who so much as blinked in her direction. She took points from both Kurt and Blaine, too, for being the cause of so many traffic jams.

The whole spectacle made Blaine nervous, but Kurt's hand fit into his palm perfectly. They hadn't kissed or fully talked about what their relationship was yet, but when Kurt had been waiting outside of the Hufflepuff common room that morning, Blaine hadn't been able to say no. Kurt's risk was huge. So far there'd been no backlash, but Blaine was certain it was coming.

"That potion was so weird," Kurt said as they trekked up the dungeon steps into the entrance hall. It was past time for lunch. Their class had run over because of today's concoction, but Blaine had hardly noticed with Kurt working at the same cauldron. "I think those crushed snake fangs are congealing under my fingernails. Ugh."

"There's a bathroom on the first floor. I don't have any more classes today. Do you want to spend the day together?"

Even though it was so clear to him that Kurt wanted to be with him, it still made him nervous to ask. They needed to talk though. About so many things the last twenty-four hours had been.

"Sure! My common room—oh. Well, the library—Madam Pince would rip our tongues out."

"I'm sure we can find an unused classroom or something."

"Yeah, all right."

They headed up to the bathroom which was thankfully empty. Kurt tried his best to wash the crushed snake fangs out from under his nails, and Blaine ended up showing him a neat little spell to help. As he focused his spell on the last of Kurt's fingers he swallowed. He'd love nothing more than to kiss Kurt right now. To breathe one hot breath after another and forget all the questions he still had.

"Thanks. That's a quick little spell. Where'd you learn that?"

"My brother. He's always got to be Mr. Clean for all the modeling he does, fingernails included."

Kurt smiled, and it was too much for Blaine then. He grabbed Kurt's robes and tugged him close, curled one hand into the hair at the nape of Kurt's neck. Blaine kissed him deeply. Kurt's expression was a little dazed when they broke apart, but he smiled down at Blaine.

"So are we friends who kiss then? Or… or boyfriends?"

"Let's find somewhere else to talk," Blaine suggested as the bathroom door opened. A little first year wandered in, then stared at the pair of them wrapped in each other's arms. "Come on."

They took to the corridors in search of an unused classroom that had some sort of furniture. Twenty minutes later, after several close calls with Peeves the Poltergeist, Kurt and Blaine had settled down in a tiny classroom on the fourth floor overlooking the Forbidden Forest. As Kurt waved his wand and lit some of the candles on the brackets around the room, Blaine brought down one of the couches off the stack in the corner.

As the couch scraped the stone floor, Blaine lowered his wand.

"Well? Where do you want to start?"

Kurt bit his lip. "I'm not sure. Maybe with what we both want? It might be best to see if we even want the same sort of relationship before we get into details."

Blaine took a seat. Kurt sat down beside him and twisted to face him. He thought for a few minutes, about how uncertain his trust of Kurt still was, even now that he was being open in front of the entire school. About what might happen if the laughter and jeering and cruelty of the other Slytherins became too much for Kurt to take. Yet he wanted to hold Kurt's hand, while they were alone and in public. He wanted sweet kisses and deeper ones, to feel the heat of Kurt's body and the blistering trust of sharing their fears and desires and hopes.

"I want to be your boyfriend."

Blaine looked up startled, because Kurt had spoken the same words with him. He smiled as Kurt laughed.

"Okay, and friends, too?" Kurt watched him nervously. "I want us to be both."

"Definitely. Best friends and boyfriends."

"Great, so… do I have your trust again?"

Blaine was quiet for a bit before he answered.

"Yes and no. I'm sorry I doubted that you care for me, but I'm still scared that what everyone says or does might make you… that you might…"

"Walk away from us? I won't. And I know me saying that doesn't make you really believe me, but I won't walk away. Not again. If the other Slytherins don't like it, then that's on them. Same with anyone else. I'd rather be with you than without. I'm worried about what they'll do as well, but… I'll deal with it when it happens."

"We'll deal with it. Together."

"Thanks. For forgiving me and for standing by me."

"Until we're on the Quidditch pitch," Blaine said. He grinned and pulled his feet up onto the couch. "I get the feeling we're going to be fighting for the Quidditch cup in a few months, and when that happens, you're on your own…"

"Oh, I see how it is! But you've never played me before so…"

"So what?" Blaine leaned into Kurt then, toward that brilliant smile and the glow that settled warm blue in his eyes. Kurt pecked him on the lips. "Oh, is that your secret weapon? Kissing me to death?"

"Is it working?"

"On the ground, sure. You'd have to catch me in the air…"

Blaine smiled into their next kiss, at Kurt's hand on his neck. He pressed his lips against Kurt's mouth, into the warmth of his breath and the smile of his kiss. They kissed gently at first, hands timid as their tried to figure out where was best to place them. Kurt broken one kiss and paused.

"This is okay?"

Blaine nodded. "Definitely. Um, is it okay if I put my hands on your sides?"

Kurt agreed. They took a few minutes playfully placing their hands in different spots. On each other's shoulders, biceps, waist, even ears. By the time they kissed again they were both laughing. Blaine fell backward onto the couch, taking Kurt's weight with him.

His laughter stopped immediately. Kurt's body was resting on top of his. Their thighs resting against each other, Kurt's hand brushing against his hip, his warm breath on Blaine's cheeks.

"Hi," Kurt whispered. Blaine watched his throat as he swallowed. "Is this—"

"I'm fine. Do you want to kiss me again?"

Kurt nodded and leaned down to kiss him once more.

Blaine wasn't sure for how long they stayed like that. Trading sweet kisses and smiling at their chapped lips and rosy cheeks. Moments like this were all Blaine had ever thought to want in a boyfriend. Something pure and true. No pressure or insistent pushing to go further, just him and a boy of his choosing, finally on the same page.

As the sun began to set across the high window nearby, Kurt rested his head on Blaine's shoulder and sighed.

"I never thought I'd have a boyfriend before I left Hogwarts."

"Why? You're gorgeous, Kurt."

"Have you met some of the gay guys at Hogwarts?"

Blaine nodded and glanced down at what he could see of Kurt's face. "They're mostly less awful clones of Sebastian. Has he said anything yet?"

Kurt shook his head. "I'm sure he will soon enough. As long as I keep my Quidditch spot, I'll be okay."

"You're sure?"

"Well, my Quidditch spot and you. Smythe would hate himself if he put Rachel back on the team, so I think that'll be mostly fine." Kurt raised his head to look at him. "Do you want to go to Hogsmeade on Valentine's Day? Just the two of us?"

Blaine sat up so fast he knocked Kurt to the floor.

"Sorry! You mean like a real date?"

Kurt winced as he sat up on the stone floor. "Yeah, of course. We'll go together and leave together. Not like last time. A real, true date for Valentine's Day."

"Yes. I would love that."

Blaine smiled even as the force of their next kiss made their teeth knock together. Kurt was so giddy as they stood and collected their bags, he was practically bouncing.

"We're boyfriends," Kurt said. "I have a boyfriend."

Blaine laughed. "Yeah, we are Walk me to dinner?"

"Definitely."

***

Kurt spent one glorious weekend with Blaine before his housemates seemed to come to their senses. Sunday morning, the hoots and snide remarks started in the Great Hall at breakfast. Kurt ate quickly and then left for the library. Blaine had Quidditch practice all morning, and despite wanting to go see him play, Kurt understood how it would look if he did. Blaine's new Slytherin boyfriend showing up at their practice after they became official wouldn't look good to the rest of Hufflepuff house.

He turned up the grand staircase, intent on getting some homework done until Blaine's practiced ended. But it wasn't meant to be.

"You're wasting all this time dating him, and you aren't even down at the pitch spying?"

Sebastian Smythe fell into step beside him. Kurt adjusted his bag's shoulder strap and kept walking toward the library. He hadn't spoken to his friends since dinner on Thursday, but clearly the assumption was he was pretending to like Blaine for his own gain. For the team's gain.

"I'm not spying on my boyfriend," Kurt said without looking at Sebastian. "Same way he won't be at our practices."

Sebastian made a noise of disagreement and grabbed Kurt's arm to stop him mid-stride. Kurt looked at him. In an instant, Sebastian's amused grin faded.

"You're serious."

Kurt swallowed. Honesty. That was the best way forward. The path Blaine had talked about only yesterday when they'd discussed how to deal with the rest of the school over the coming weeks.

"I'm dating Blaine because I like him."

Kurt continued down the corridor, but Sebastian caught up after only a few paces.

"Is that why you blocked me earlier this year?"

Sebastian elbowed him, but it was a playful gesture that gave Kurt pause. They stopped in the corridor and faced each other.

"Like, I get it. He came back from summer absolutely gorgeous. If I was any sort of monogamous guy, I'd have been all over him for more than just Quidditch. But… come on, Hummel. At least get us some intel."

"No. We promised we wouldn't sabotage each other's Quidditch teams. And—why are you taking this so well? I figured you'd be screaming to throw me off the team."

"What? And have Berry back? Are you kidding me?"

Sebastian shook his head and sat down on a window ledge. "Look, as long as you don't go blabbing our Quidditch stuff mid-orgasm—"

"We aren't… the only Quidditch talk we have is about the international league, okay? It's fine."

"Right. Well, good."

Sebastian dragged the toe of his shoe along the floor. "Brittany said—nevermind."

"Has she been blabbing to you now too?"

Kurt crossed his arms and started walking again. This was awkward. Why weren't any of them reacting the way he had expected them to?

"No, come on." Sebastian followed after him as a little group of chattering third years passed. "I… she said you were pretending, even to Blaine, because of us."

"And?"

Kurt gave him a withering look and continued down the corridor to another staircase. Maybe he had been foolish, but how was he supposed to know they'd be on his side? After the way they'd treated Blaine in Hogsmeade, Kurt had been convinced he'd had every right to never let them find out the truth. For years they'd talked down to Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors. Why would now be any different?

"Why'd you give a damn what we think? Seriously, you never give a shit if we like what you say or not. I mean, we're all friends, and we're sort of awful to each other for fun, but… we'd have been on board with you dating a guy you like." Sebastian shrugged. "Well, maybe not Berry. Or a Gryffindor. That'd be hard to stomach. But Santana and me? We aren't exactly straight either. It's hard enough finding people to date without worrying about our friends taking the mickey out of you for who it is."

"And when you lot cornered Blaine in Hogsmeade? When you stood there and humiliated him for no good reason?"

"We—" Sebastian had the decency to look ashamed.

Kurt didn't trust the expression on his face, but he stopped and waited for an answer.

"I was there, you know," Kurt told him. "He asked me to meet him, after weeks of writing to each other in secret because I didn't want to lose my friends, and then you—all of you—"

Sebastian grunted. "Sorry."

"It's not me you need to apologize to." Kurt shook his head. "This is all ridiculous. I can't believe none of you are mad or treating me like shit for dating a Hufflepuff. You've always said—"

"Saying and doing are different. We're fine with it, honestly. So what if the other Slytherins have a go? They'll get over it. Unless you're spilling Quidditch secrets. Then there's a problem. Well, and Berry. I'm sure she's pissed about everything to do with you these days."

"Let her be. I'm done with her drama. That's all she is anymore."

Sebastian nodded. "Well, I've got plays to plan for practice. Do not spill any Quidditch secrets just because he's cute. Or on your dick."

"You're such a pig."

Sebastian grinned as he walked away. Kurt watched him go, and wondered…

How could he have been so wrong? He'd had every reason to doubt his friends, and yet, here they were supporting him dating Blaine. Kurt took a seat on a window ledge in the next corridor. Maybe this was all on him after all. All the doubts and the fears and the belief that those he considered friends wouldn't support him as he was and for dating who he liked. Maybe he'd been wrong and blind. Or maybe he hadn't, too. It was complicated. Life was complicated.

"Kurt?"

Mercedes stood in front of him, her own school bag over her shoulder.

"Oh, hey. How are you?"

Mercedes frowned. "Trying to get some essays gone and your brother's gone and turned our common room into a practical joke party. Sounds like a concert in there, so I'm going to the library. Are you and Blaine still—"

"We're good. Great. It's been a… strange few days." Kurt stood up and hooked his arm through Mercedes'. "Want to go to the library together? I'm heading there myself. Blaine's supposed to meet me for lunch later, too."

As Mercedes glanced up and down the empty corridor, Kurt smiled. "No worries. I might as well do this being open and honest about my relationship thing right, yeah? That means friendships, too. We are friends, aren't we?"

"Absolutely. Which reminds me, this droopy thing you've been doing with your hair since third year… it has got to go."


End file.
